Heart of a Lion
by Deja and Darcie
Summary: Booth and Brennan are shapeshifters in a world of humans. They've been partners for five years, trying to live with what they are. But the shaky alliance between man and shapeshifter begins to crumble after the partners uncover a silent war on a case. AU
1. Prologue

A/N: This endeavor is going to be a little different, but in a good way (I hope). Booth and Brennan are shapeshifters, but I am trying to keep them in character as they do their murder solving, bickering, whatever else thing. The shapeshifters that populate this story aren't like the ones you might have seen elsewhere. They aren't as big as houses, they don't instantly shift during the full moon, and they don't have magical powers. They come with a variety of problems, both human and shifter. I want them to be believable and have (tenuous) basis in scientific fact. Anyways, this story will take a few chapters to really get going, but I hope you stick with me to the end! Without further ado, I present:

**Heart of a Lion**

By Deja

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

Angela stood in the doorway to her friend's office, eagerly waiting for Brennan to finish up. "I wish you would hurry up," she complained, "This baby needs food. We're on a strict feeding schedule, you know."

"I understand, Angela. I just need to secure everything before we leave," Brennan responded, closing the file and placing it in her desk drawer. She took a small key and locked it while Angela rolled her eyes.

"We're going to lunch, sweetie, not leaving for an extended vacation," she said, poking fun at her best friend.

"These files are very important. I don't want them lying around while the tour comes through." Brennan tidied her desk, then turned to grab her jacket. The Jeffersonian Medico-Legal lab was opened for public viewing under Cam's supervision for one hour every month. Cam tried to schedule it at times convenient to her team, and they had found that having the team out of the office worked better for everyone.

"Speaking of extended vacations, you and Booth are taking a romantic vacation away together," Angela said through a smirk. She waited for Brennan to gather her purse and jacket before taking her arm in hers. "To my knowledge you weren't even dating last weekend, so you two are moving pretty fast."

"Angela, Booth and I aren't dating, and to call this trip a vacation would be stretching the truth," Brennan said as they exited the Jeffersonian. The clear spring air was warm enough that they didn't need wear their jackets and pretty enough that they decided to walk the distance from the Medico-Legal Lab to the diner rather than drive.

"Sure sounds like a vacation, sweetie. Three weeks alone in a rustic cabin with a gorgeous guy…a lot of 'vacation-like' activity could happen in that setting."

"By your tone and the look of lust on your face, I assume that you're referring to sexual intercourse, and I can assure you that Booth and I are not engaged in a sexual relationship."

"That's not to say that it couldn't start there," Angela commented, wiggling her eyebrows. Brennan heaved an aggravated sigh, but smiled at her friend.

"You know why we are going, Ange. It isn't recreational in the traditional sense."

"Yeah, I know. You and Booth are going off into the woods to get in touch with your furry sides. I'm just saying that it's three weeks. And I'm sure you won't be furry the entire time."

"No, we will not be in our feline forms the entire time. I, for one, am underweight for a shift by thirteen percent. It will probably take me several days to achieve a healthy weight for shifting. I don't know what Booth's stats are, though I suspect he is underweight as well. And we won't be gone three weeks. Only fifteen days. It is the most time we managed to negotiate with the FBI and Jeffersonian, even though the past months have been difficult for all of us."

"Tell me about it," Angela complained. They waited to cross the street in a small crowd of people, but Angela didn't see the need to lower her voice or censor the conversation. "The past months have sucked big time. I would love some time off with Hodgins. I need some fabulous, relaxing, stress free sex."

"I would assume that since you cohabitated, sex would naturally follow." She and Angela stopped at the crosswalk with a crowd of people, but neither woman censored their conversation. The people surrounding them looked with expressions ranging from horror to amusement to curiosity.

"You would think that, wouldn't you," Angela said, sighing. "But I'm not talking about sex where we're so exhausted that we fall asleep in the middle of it, I'm talking about in a little cabana on a beach somewhere where there are no worries and no dead bodies. Somewhere where Hodgie and I can really connect, you know?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Brennan laughed as they crossed the street.

"You would know, sweetie, if you and Booth ever took the plunge. I mean, Hodgie and I are exquisite together, but you and Booth have this connection that just makes me…ahhh," Angela's face lit up with a dreamy, steamy look as she breathed out sensually. "When I'm standing near you two when you're doing that staring thing, it makes me want to grab Hodgins and drag him off to the Egyptian storage room. The both of you just radiate sex when you're together."

"That would be due to the pheromones that we give off in the presence of another alpha shapeshifter. It's not related in any way to our sexuality."

"Hmmm…something in that statement sounds wrong, but we'll go with your version for now," she humored her friend as she pulled open the diner's door and let Brennan proceed her in. They settled into the bar and ordered their drinks and food without looking at the menu. They ate together peacefully, straying to more neutral topics than their sex lives (or lack thereof).

Brennan's phone rang as they were finishing their meal. She glanced at the caller ID and Angela smirked at her as her expression softened before she answered it.

"Brennan," she answered with a smile. She and Angela stood up, leaving a generous tip on the table as well as enough money to cover the bill.

"Yeah, I'm leaving the diner now," she said as they went towards the door. She shut the phone abruptly with a smile as her partner opened the door for them.

"Imagine meeting you here," Booth drawled, closing his phone and moving aside so the two women could join him in the sunshine. He looked wonderfully casual in jeans and a form fitting black t-shirt.

"Hey Handsome. If we'd known that you were eating here, we would have waited for you," Angela said flirtatiously. Booth smiled at her, but saved his attention for his partner.

"Nah, I'm just stopping by for lunch to go before I pick up Parker at school," he explained, his face lighting up at the mention of his son. "I have him the rest of the day because of baseball."

"That sounds like fun," Angela said, looking almost wistful at the thought of a young boy at the ball field with his father.

"You're welcome to come see Parker play," he invited them both. However, his attention was on his partner, touching her lightly on the arm. "His game starts at 6:30. He's pitching the first three innings. It's a school night, so I'm taking him to Rebecca's after dinner." Booth moved closer to her as the diner door swung open. His smell wrapped around her as he moved forward, hot sand, warm skin and pure male under his fresh scent of soap and laundry detergent. Angela watched their interactions with a smirk.

"I'm afraid that I can't make it tonight," she said, letting her hand grip his for a moment, then fall away. Her partner smiled and turned away, looking back over his shoulder at her.

"Well, if you can make it, we'd both love to see you. If not, I guess I'll see you tomorrow," he responded, walking into the diner. Angela stood smiling stupidly at Brennan.

"What?" Brennan asked in irritation.

"Nothing," Angela sang, linking arms with her best friend again. "I just hope that you and Booth can realize what you have on this vacation."

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><p>AN: I hope you enjoyed this first installment. There's more to come. I would love to hear from you!


	2. On The Case

A/N: Thank you so much for the warm reception that this story received! Because it is very AU, I was worried, but I feel better about continuing this. Thanks so much for your reviews, alerts and favorites. Now onto the case!

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><p><strong>On The Case<strong>

"…In other news, protesters gathered today outside of a coal mine in West Virginia, protesting the return to work of six miners. These miners are shapeshifters, coming back to work for the first time after the new law requiring all shapeshifters to register in their state and wear state-issued identification," the news reporter said. A picture of the identification tags around someone's neck replaced the woman's face, and the silver dog tags winked in the light, followed by a gold bracelet that looked similar to a medical alert bracelet on another's arm. A West Virginia driver's license with the name and picture fuzzed out appeared, showing the glaring red bar next to the picture proclaiming that the person is a shapeshifter. The picture changed to a rural mountainous scene, then zoomed in on a crowd of angry picketers.

"A small fight broke out between shapeshifters and protesters after slurs were shouted on both sides, but it ended with only minor injuries. Although the Alpha of the West Virginia shapeshifter pack declined to comment, the general consensus in the shapeshifter community is that they have been betrayed and "Tapped out." The phrase "Tapped out" refers to Robert Tapp, an Alpha from New Mexico, who made his political career out of revealing the shapeshifters around the country in the 1950s. With the new law requiring all shapeshifters to wear identifying tags, many people are worried that violence will escalate…"

Booth couldn't stand to listen to any more of the reporter's annoying voice and cut her off mid sentence. He put down the remote, but watched the blank TV for several seconds dressed only in his shirt and boxers before pulling his focus back to his clothes. He chose an extra bright tie and draped it around his collar. His bare feet ached on the cold wood floor and he quickly chose his socks, pants and belt buckle, dressing quickly. Finally he sighed, picking up his gun, wallet, badge and lastly his state-issued silver dog tags that identified him not only as Seeley J. Booth, but also as a shapeshifter. With resigned hatred, he slipped the tags over his head and tucked them under his shirt, knotting his tie over the hated pieces of metal.

By the time he had pulled his beloved SUV into the parking deck of the Jeffersonian, his mood had lightened a little. "Bones!" he shouted as he came into the Jeffersonian's Medico-Legal lab. He made his way to his partner's office cheerfully. Meeting with his partner was often the best part of his day.

"Sorry, Booth,"Cam said, moving out of the autopsy room at his yell, "Dr. Brennan isn't here yet."

"Where is she?" he asked, beginning to worry. His partner was usually here before eight on a workday, often before eight. And she always told him if she needed to be out of the office for an extended amount of time.

"She told me she might be coming in late today because she has some sort of personal business to take care of. I assumed that she had a doctor's appointment or something. Have you tried calling her?"

"No," he responded, whipping out his cell. Her number was speed dial number two and he waited to hear from her.

"Brennan," she answered breathlessly.

"Hey, Bones," Booth said cheerfully. He was happy that she wasn't kidnapped or whatever. "Where are you? I'm at your office and you're not here yet. You're not sick, are you?"

"No, I am not sick. I'm on my way. I think I'll be at the Jeffersonian in about five minutes," she said. Her voice was muffled by the sounds of traffic and voices.

"Are you walking?" he asked.

"Yes, Booth. If more people would walk rather than drive to areas that are locally accessible, then carbon emissions would be cut by at least…"

"Yeah, that's great, Bones," Booth cut her off, moving towards the door. He waved his free hand in Cam's direction, not even waiting to seeCam's amused and bemused expression. "I'll pick you up out front."

"Do we have a case?" she asked.

He confirmed her suspicion as he left the Jeffersonian, "We have a case."

Brennan hopped in the car, stashing her purse in the back next to her extra kit that Booth carried around for her. She noticed that Booth watched her speculatively as she strapped on her seat belt. She shot him an annoyed glare. "What?" she asked belligerently.

"You're never late to work, Bones," he said suspiciously.

"I'm sometimes late to work," she defended. "Although I try to be mindful of the time, if I am late I work later to make up for it."

"No, I don't mean when you sleep in a little and come in a few minutes late. I mean that you never schedule things during the workday. You always schedule appointments and things like that later in the day or on the weekends. Just look at our weekend sessions with Sweets," he argued. "You put work before just about everything."

"This was necessary, Booth," Brennan answered firmly. She had ended her sentence with a finality that made Booth back down temporarily. He studied her out of the corner of his eye as he drove. She was very pretty today and Booth was very appreciative, although he kept that fact to himself. Her light pink short-sleeve turtleneck top covered by her jacket complemented her coloring perfectly, and her jeans fit very nicely. She fidgeted in her seat, knowing that his eyes were on her.

"So what did the doctor say?" he asked slyly.

"I didn't go to the doctor's office, Booth. It wasn't a medical appointment," she snapped. Booth eyed her again and noticed that she was pulling on the neck of her knit shirt.

"Do you have a hickey, Bones? Is that why you're wearing a high neck today? To cover someone's little love mark?"

"No," she said defensively. Booth knew that he was hitting closer to the mark because of her tone, but he didn't know which part of his statement was making her defensive.

"Come on, Bones, I didn't even know you were dating someone."

"I'm not," she said peevishly. Booth knew that, and Brennan knew that Booth knew. When Brennan was dating someone, her scent changed dramatically, especially if they were having sex on a regular basis. He watched her rub the material between her breasts as if it itched. Suddenly it dawned on him and the realization made him go from teasing to serious.

"This is the first day you're wearing your identification tags, isn't it?" he stated gravely. His eyes stayed firmly on the road.

"Yes, not that it's any of your business," Brennan replied grumpily. She glanced fleetingly at Booth and her temporary anger at him melted into melancholy. "My name was spelled incorrectly on the first pair of tags, so I had to correct it at the Office of Shifter and Human Affairs. That's why I was running late today." Her sigh was quiet, but Booth understood her feelings perfectly. They were quiet the rest of the way to the crime scene.

Booth stopped the SUV at the edge of a highly wooded area outside the city limits. Officially,Rock Creek Park was federally protected land, but all law enforcement knew that unofficially it was stomping grounds for shapeshifters in animal form. Booth was tense, carrying the heavy weight of his worry on his shoulders. He knew exactly why he had been assigned to this case, and it wasn't because he and Brennan had the best solve rate in the Bureau. Brennan grabbed her kit and donned her blue jumpsuit while Booth gathered information from a local police officer. "It's a bit of a climb to the body," the young man told Booth. "Some trespassers found it when they went off the trail into the national wilderness area. It's near the peak ofRock Creek Mountain."

"You ready to do some hiking, Bones?" Booth called over his shoulder.

"If that's what's necessary to see the remains, then, yes, I am ready to hike," she stated, settling her water bottle into its place. They followed their guide up the trail. It was well marked and easy to maneuver through, and the three made good time.

"This is where the hikers called it in," the officer remarked as they came to a rather busy picnic area. A young couple sat at a table with an officer and a park official while several techs wandered to and from the clearing. "This is the nearest place with cell reception until you reach the peak. This is the closest that the trail comes to the national wilderness area. It's only about a quarter mile to the limits of the public area. Those are the two that found the body." He pointed to the couple at the table as he wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve.

"Are you going to book them?" Booth questioned.

"Yes, sir," the cop said. "Usually trespassing here wouldn't be a big deal, but the area they were in was not only federally protected land, it was also designated as a national wilderness area, and the boundaries are clearly marked with 'No Trespassing' signs and such. They didn't have special permission to be there, and they didn't have…proper identification. It won't be but a slap on the hand, really, but we have to take it more serious than usual, with the current situation."

He sounded very apologetic, and Booth wondered where his sympathies lay. Shapeshifters were lobbying for more protected land near the big cities so that they could change into their animal forms nearer to where they lived and worked. The majority of American felt that shapeshifters shouldn't receive special benefits because of their "disease." With the new laws that required shapeshifters to carry IDs, Booth was afraid that places likeRock Creek Park could become a battlefield. He glanced at his partner worriedly, wondering what they were walking into. Brennan ignored the talk completely once she found that it had nothing to do with remains and tried to find the body she was to examine. Booth smiled slightly and turned his attention back to the young cop.

"Yeah, I'll want to talk to your trespassers before you take them in," Booth said, fumbling for his note cards.

"I'd like to see the body," Brennan interjected.

"Right this way, Dr. Brennan," a tech said, joining Brennan as her partner started towards the table. "It's a bit of a hike from here."

"Booth?" she questioned. He didn't need her to clarify what she wanted. After five years of being partnered with her, he knew what to say.

"Go on, Bones. I know you don't like your remains compromised. Just let me get their statements so they can go. I'll be there in a minute," he reassured her. Brennan nodded and followed the tech into the woods away from the marked trail. Brennan judged that it had been about half a mile before they reached the boundary of the protected area. The barbed wire had been cut and replaced with yellow crime scene tape that the tech lifted so Brennan could duck under.

Brennan began to smell the body long before they reached the site. The smell of advanced decomposition was strong. Although she didn't like to make statements without seeing the body, judging from the smell she would say that the body had been exposed to the elements for at less than a week. The temperature had just begun to turn warm within the past few days, so a body would most likely still have flesh for Cam to examine.

She and the tech arrived in a small clearing cordoned off with crime scene tape. Marcus Geier crouched near the body, writing observations down in a small notebook. A small box nearly full of samples from the surrounding area sat behind him, and a camera dangled from around his neck.

"This is the body?" Brennan asked incredulously. Both FBI techs looked at her like she was crazy.

"Yes, Dr. Brennan," Geier said slowly. Brennan walked over to where Geier was standing and looked down on the body with him.

Brennan was stumped. She was sure that the body would be less decomposed than this. Her nose told her that the body was a week old, but her eyes told her that this skeleton had been exposed to the elements for longer than a week. Although she freely admitted that her human nose was much less sensitive than when she shifted, she still was able to establish a lot based on her olfactory senses in either form. Still incredulous, she looked down at the skeleton that was clothed with only shreds of flesh and cloth. Leaves, dirt and other particulates covered the bones. She crouched down to see the details and also to get a better scent from the body.

Before she could begin to announce her conclusions, a pair of footfalls interrupted her observations. Booth began speaking before she could say anything. "So the body was found by a guy who was taking a leak at the side of the deer trail that he and his girlfriend were following. He spotted the ribs first and thought they were animal bones, but then he saw the skull. This is the first time he's been here—or at least, the only time he would admit that he was in the restricted area. The girlfriend made him mark the place he left the trail with their bandanas and they went to the picnic area to call the police. So whadda ya got for me, Bones?"

"The shape of the pelvis confirms that the victim is male. Teeth indicate he was in his early twenties." She brushed away some debris from the brow ridge. The skull grinned back at her. She shifted her observations down his body, looking at the cervical vertebrae. "From this angle, it looks like he was killed by a single gunshot wound to the back of the neck, severing the spinal column."

"His hands are bound with what looks like duct tape," Booth observed. "Think it could be gang related?" he asked, writing on his colorful note cards.

"It's possible, but I prefer not to speculate," she said, continuing to examine the body. "Hodgins will be able to determine time of death with greater accuracy, but I'd determine that he has been dead for a month, maybe more. Most of the animal activity would have come from the past month when the weather changed. There are sign of scavenging, most likely rats and weasels."

"Well, then, let's pack it up and send it to the Jeffersonian!" Booth said enthusiastically. Brennan walked carefully around the body to stand next to Booth.

"It doesn't smell right, Booth," she whispered. Although they both were honest and upfront about their status as shapeshifters, neither of them wanted to draw extra attention to the fact. "I thought the body was less than a week old as I approached. Hodgins will tell us a more precise time, but I would say that this body was here at least three weeks, most likely four or more."

Booth breathed in deep through his nose, letting the scents linger in his nasal cavities before letting out a slow breath. "I think you're right, Bones. I don't think the smell is from Crusty here. It's coming from somewhere else."

Brennan looked out into the woods, then made a decision. "I think we're looking for another body," she announced quietly to Booth. She took a deep breath and told the techs in a loud voice. "Fan out and search for more remains. There should be some nearby."

As the techs began search patterns around the body, Booth and Brennan attempted their own search, hoping that the smell would be strong enough to lead them to the body. The underbrush was much more dense in the area they pushed through. Brambles and vines caught on their clothing as they moved toward the stronger smell. But both Brennan and Booth turned to the tech that yelled out that they had found something. Marcus Geier was placing a small numbered plastic card next to the bag and photographing the evidence when Booth and Brennan crashed out of the woods.

"It's a back pack," Booth said in disappointment. Brennan crouched down next to Geier to see the contents, and Booth commented, "It certainly doesn't look like it's been sitting out here as long as our skeleton has."

"Do we know if it belongs to our trespassers?" Brennan asked, kneeling beside it and reaching in her kit for her gloves.

"Both of them had packs," Booth answered. "They were both carrying something smaller than this thing."

"Are we ready to open?" Brennan asked the tech, pulling on a new pair of gloves. At Geier's nod, Brennan opened the zipper and peered inside.

"Clothes," she murmured. She checked the tag inside the t-shirt. "Female sizes."

"Protein bars," Booth said for Brennan's ears only. "Lots of empty wrappers." His voice was laced with worry.

"Protein gel, too," she said back. Geier wasn't following their thought process, but continued to place the evidence into bags.

"I have a very bad feeling about this, Bones," Booth stated, his voice low and worried. "First a body with hands bound, gunshot wound to the back of the head, now this…and more than likely there will be another body here." Right on cue, a tech raised his voice.

"Dr. Brennan! Over here," he called. "We've found the other body." Leaving Geier with the backpack, Brennan and Booth headed deeper into the woods to examine the second body.

"Oh, yeah. Yuck," Booth complained as they walked up near the body. It was still what Brennan termed "meaty" and was crawling with maggots and beetles. It smelled like rotting garbage left out in the sun. Over the rotting garbage smell was another, more acrid scent. Booth sneezed twice in quick secession. "Oh, no. Bones, please tell me that it's not what I think it is."

"How would I know what you think it is?" she asked absently, leaning down to study the body. "Aha!" she said as she stooped down and found compelling evidence. "Booth, look at this," she exclaimed, pointing to the back of the neck. Booth jumped with agile grace around the body to avoid contaminating the evidence and stay out of Brennan's light. Bending down, he saw a clear bullet hole where she pointed. Around the body lay grayish-brown slimy looking blobs that littered the ground around the body and were also crawling with maggots. Booth made a disgusted face at the smell and the nastiness surrounding the body, but he continued to make observations.

"The hands are bound as well. It's probably no coincidence that there are two bodies with the same cause of death in the same area. And what is that goo around the body?"

"I would have to test it at the lab to be sure, but I believe this is a molted layer of epidermis with light grey fur," she explained, looking at his face with the barest amount of dread. Booth's face reflected that dread when the implications of Brennan's statement hit him.

"You think we're looking at a dead shapeshifter," Booth stated.

"I'd have to see the femurs to give you a firm confirmation, but yes, my preliminary findings indicate that this body is a female, approximately the same age as the first victim, and a shapeshifter," she concluded.

"Ah, hell," Booth sighed, "a dead shapeshifter in a national wilderness area." He looked stern and worried, but straightened his shoulders and addressed the FBI techs. "Lets get it all back to the Jeffersonian."

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><p>AN: Hope you're still interested. I'd love to hear what you think.


	3. Back At The Lab

A/N: I try to make my science at least sound accurate. I hope I've succeeded. Thank you so much for your patience and wonderful comments!

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><p><strong> Back at the Lab<strong>

"Good afternoon, Dr. Brennan," the chipper voice of Daisy called from the platform. Brennan swiped the card at the bottom of the steps, then fastened it to the lapel of her lab coat, all the while watching her intern carefully. "It's so good to be working with you again…"

"What have you found, Ms. Wick?" Brennan said pointedly, cutting through the beginning of a long speech she could see broiling in Daisy's mouth. Daisy looked like a dog eager to please her master and made a subdued skip over to the table where the skeletal remains were laid out in anatomical order, ready to show off her skills.

"As you can see, judging by the shape of the pelvis and the brow ridge, the victim is male. I believe he's Hispanic in origin."

"Yeah, I'm getting a strong Hispanic vibe from him," Angela said as she stood near the body with a clipboard. "And how was your day, Bren? Late for any _good reason?"_

"Of course it was for a good reason, Ange. I don't know what you're implying," Brennan responded, glancing at her best friend with a confused look. She knew that Angela wasn't criticizing her, but the frustrating thing about human interaction was that when one possibility was eliminated, there were still hundreds more to chose from. Although knowing Angela, it was something about…

"Sex, sweetie," Angela sighed. Brennan wasn't surprised at her answer and she continued to study the skeletal structure in front of her, keeping a small part of her attention on Angela. "Were you late because you were getting a little something from a guy?"

"No, Angela," she said irritably as everything that annoyed her about her trip that morning came back with a vengeance at Angela's reminder. "I needed to finish an errand before it was too late. And I realize it was irresponsible for me to take personal time away from work. It won't happen again."

"Chill, Brennan," her friend said, surprised by the vehemence of her reply. Brennan tended to be very even natured about teasing. Angela dropped it for the time being and went back to studying the skull. Brennan didn't sigh or apologize, just bent over the skeleton opposite Daisy.

"I feel that you are correct in the assessment of his race. What other conclusions have you reached, Ms. Wick?" Brennan asked, trying her best to be a good teacher as well as the foremost forensic anthropologist in the world. Although she was tired and stressed, and Daisy was the last person she wanted to deal with, she listened intently as her intern displayed her knowledge eagerly.

"The degree of fusion in the epiphyses shows that he was less than twenty five," Daisy said, looking up from the body to the screen nearby. The x-rays of the long bones told Brennan that her student's assessment was correct. The teeth confirmed the statement as well, although Daisy made no mention of the dentition.

Brennan made a mental note to askCamif she had given the x-rays of the teeth to the FBI for identification purposes. However, she didn't see any evidence of dental work. In fact, judging by the x-rays that she studied, he had problems with his teeth that had been most likely painful long before his death, but she saw no indications that he had gone to the dentist. That, combined with the Hispanic features, made it likely that Hodgins' isotopic analysis would show that he had spent his childhood in an impoverished country prior to coming to the United States. She didn't think that the dental scans would show a match. As if summoned by her thoughts,Camswiped her card and ascended the stairs to the forensic platform.

"No match on the dental work. DNA is pending,"Cam informed her.

"It is likely that he never visited the dentist," Daisy chirped. "His toothies have cavities."

"Ms. Wick, please keep your vocabulary professional," Brennan chided. Spending this time with Daisy always made her miss Zack's presence to a great degree.

"Of course, Dr. Brennan. And I want you to know that when I testify in court I will be totally and completely professional. Lance has been giving me lessons about testifying," she said eagerly. "He pretends to be the defense attorney because he says that he's not scary enough to be Caroline Julian." Daisy giggled while Cam gave an eye roll that went unnoticed by her colleagues. However, Cam was amused by the expression of distaste on Brennan's face.

"What else have you found on the skeleton?" Brennan asked, hoping to keep the talk of personal lives to a minimum.

"There are striations on the bones," Daisy noticed.

"And what do they indicate?"

"Periods of malnutrition during the formative years," Daisy said dutifully.

"So Hispanic origin, with bad teeth, who occasionally went hungry when he was a kid?" Angela summarized as she continued sketching. "Do you think he was an illegal alien?"

"Occupational markers indicate heavy labor," murmured Brennan, engrossed in the right shoulder of the victim. She moved past the scapula to the vertebrae. "There is a partial clay shoveler's fracture on the C6. It seems fairly recent compared to the occupational markers on his right glenohumeral joint."

"So maybe it was a recent job? It might help us find identification," Cam suggested.

"This might help, too. Now bear in mind that this is a rough sketch," Angela said before turning her sketchbook around to show her drawing. The man looked very young in her picture, although it was clear that he was within the age range that Brennan and Daisy specified. His cheekbones were high and aristocratic, and his eyes were kind. Angela had drawn him with straight black hair that was slicked back from his face. Angela continued defending her sketch. "When you clean the bones and add depth markers to the skull, I can make this more accurate."

"It looks good, Ange," Brennan said, studying the sketch, then the skull and comparing what she knew of human anatomy with the muscle attachments she saw on the skull. She trusted Angela's methods immensely, and she knew that the artist had a good eye for reconstructions. "See if we can find a match in any of the databases."

Angela left the platform, passing Hodgins coming out of Cam's autopsy room with a tray filled with blobs of material. He left the tray at his station and came onto the platform using the side entrance. "_Calliphoridae _larva confirm time of death for the female victim five days ago. The time of death for the male victim was a little trickier because we had a long winter, but I put it roughly 20-28 days ago, judging by the empty_ _Calliphoridae __puparia combined with the presence of rove beetles."

"Thanks, Hodgins," Brennan said absently.

Cam turned towards her office, saying, "That's my cue to get started."

"I'd like to examine the bones of the female victim after you've finished with the flesh, Cam," Brennan said absently.

"Of course, Dr. Brennan," she said as she walked away. She hesitated on the steps to the platform and turned back tentatively to face Brennan. "Will you be all right with the victim being…?" she didn't finish, hoping that Brennan would for once get what she was trying delicately to say by her verbal cues.

"I don't understand, Dr. Saroyan," she responded predictably, her face showing her confusion.

Exasperatedly, Cam just said it bluntly, "The victim is a shapeshifter. Will that bother you?"

"Why would it bother me?" Brennan said with all sincerity. Angela hid a small smile at the interchange as Cam shook her head and headed to the autopsy room.

"Never mind," she muttered, wondering why she tried anymore. Brennan went back to examining the remains. She began to point out irregularities on the skeleton to her intern, asking leading questions to both affirm her suspicions and also assess her intern's skill level.

Daisy perked up at Brennan's words and was leading into a speech, but fortunately for Brennan, her phone rang and she stripped off her gloves before turning away from her intern and reaching into her pocket. "Brennan," she answered, then smiled when she heard Booth's voice.

"So FBI found the bullets in the woods where we found the bodies. Same caliber," Booth said without preamble. "That makes the park our murder scene as well as the body dump," he added. "They're sweeping for trace evidence now."

"Have them send everything…" she began.

"…to Hodgins," Booth finished for her, "Yeah, they know the routine. The bullets are on their way to the Jeffersonian right now." Brennan was prepared to hang up, but Booth surprised her with his next statement. "We have to get this solved quickly. We leave in a few days and that deposit is non-refundable. Besides, there might be...other complications as well."

"I understand," she said, then added , "My team is very good. I'll call you if we find anything." She ended the call and turned back to the bones as she placed the phone in her pocket.

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><p>AN: I hope this still holds your interest. Please tell me what you think!


	4. Stirring Up Trouble

A/N: I've played fast and loose with the geography of Washington DC. Just don't think about it and it will be fine.

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><p><strong>Stirring Up Trouble<strong>

Booth was organizing the boxes of paperwork that came with the evidence collected by the FBI. Everything had to be documented in triplicate before being moved to the Jeffersonian, and he was not going to be the one that let a murderer go free because of an irregularity in the chain of evidence. Special Agent Carlos Suarez, from the gang task force, walked in his office without ceremony and sat on the edge of his desk.

"Hey, I heard you had two bodies up at Rock Creek Park," Carlos began with a familiarity that annoyed Booth to no end. Booth stared at him, disgusted at the agent for coming into _his _office and interrupting_ _his __investigation. Carlos had that look, the one that says that this could be the big opportunity, if only he could snatch it away from Booth.

"Where'd you hear that from?" Booth asked noncommittally, knowing that the techs and junior agents talked about details of cases even when they weren't supposed to.

"Just around," Carlos said vaguely, gesturing to the bullpen outside Booth's office. "I heard that they were killed execution style." Booth said nothing, just stared hostilely at his coworker. Carlos was a good guy, but he was a hard man, and was ruthless in office politics. Booth wondered what his angle was. "That sounds like gang MO. Maybe I should take a look at it," he offered casually.

Booth gave him a smile that was in no way friendly and brushed off his offer easily, "Thanks, but my partner and I have this under control. You worry about your cases, and I'll worry about mine."

"I'm just saying Booth, a dead shapeshifter in the woods…? Maybe you're too close to this one."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Booth demanded, losing his patience and slapping the folder to his desk before giving Carlos his full attention. Carlos had the audacity to smirk and lean closer.

"Everyone knows that the Pack has a hand in this, man," he said, cruelly casual. "I mean, hands bound, shot in the back of the head, Rock Creek Park…all that screams that this is an internal affair within the Pack, which is clearly gang task force territory."

"What are you implying?" Booth asked with false calm although he knew that in DC there was a fine line between some of the larger Packs and gangs. Carlos had a point, but Booth knew that there was something more behind this than just a jurisdiction squabble.

"A shapeshifter has to be loyal to his Pack. I don't think you should be working this one," Carlos said bluntly, straightening up as Booth came around from behind his desk. Booth stepped into his personal space, and as much as Carlos wanted to stand up as his equal, he gave ground against the force of Booth's personality.

"Get out of my office," Booth ordered firmly. He was afraid that if the little twerp said one more thing in that condescending voice of his, he was going to throw him out the window.

"It's your call, man," Carlos said as he backed away toward the door.

"Stay out of my investigation," Booth said in a furious whisper as he forced Carlos to leave. He saw the curious stares from the bullpen, and knew that the story would be spread throughout the Hoover in no time. Suddenly the eyes on him felt like too much, and Booth determined to get out of the office for a while. He could do the paperwork just as easily in Bones' office as his, and it would get him out of this goldfish bowl.

~BB~

Brennan was bent over the remains when she saw Booth walk into her space. He slid his card through the security access and bounded up the stairs.

"You got anything new for me, Bones?" he asked. Brennan wrinkled her nose at Booth's grammar, but decided that an argument would be counterproductive to her work.

"Angela has a sketch and she's running it though missing persons right now. Cam is doing an autopsy on the female victim at the moment. Hodgins found cause of death and is analyzing clothing and particulates found on the female victim," Brennan said, bringing the media-cam over to the left hand and studying the image on the screen.

"Hello Agent Booth," Daisy said as she bounded up the stairs and carried a tray full of empty Petri dishes over to Brennan. "I was eating lunch with Lance today, and I thought I would go over to your office and see you, but Lance said that you were out on a case, but I told him that Dr. Brennan would have called me if there was a case, but he said that…"

"Thank you, Ms. Wick," Dr. Brennan said, cutting into her running speech as she took the tray and set it on the table beside her. Booth cautiously edged off the platform away from Daisy.

"Hey, Bones, I'll go check with Cam and see what she found."

Brennan continued to study the remnants of the phalanges on the left hand as Booth left. "Ms. Wick, what do you see there?" she asked, pointing to a semicircular discolored area on the bones of the index finger. She positioned the ruler next to the finger to give perspective under the increased magnification.

"It looks like a perimortem bite mark," Daisy replied. "Human dentition."

"Swab this area and give the sample to Hodgins. Perhaps there will be a trace of saliva." As Daisy followed her orders, Brennan studied the bite mark. There was something that was strange about the placement of the bite, but an explanation didn't come immediately to mind. The posterior of the phalange showed corresponding marks made by the lower incisors. She put aside the phalanges for a moment and let her gaze travel across the bones. Daisy came back up to the platform, but was glancing over towards the autopsy room where Booth had disappeared.

"Agent Booth would probably like to hear about the bite mark," Daisy said hopefully.

"Focus on the remains, please, Ms. Wick," Brennan said. As an alpha shapeshifter, Booth's pheromones were stronger and more likely to attract female shapeshifters and cause them to react sexually than a beta male's pheromones. For some reason, Daisy was especially sensitive to Booth's pheromones. And because Brennan was also an alpha, Booth's pheromones were on overdrive around her, which made Daisy react more strongly. Daisy's mate, Sweets, understood this trend, but still hated it.

"There is evidence of bruising to the ribs, most likely made with fists, though the third rib fracture was most likely made with a slightly pointed object, like a steel toed boot," Daisy observed.

"I concur," Brennan said. Booth strode purposefully into her vision and she straightened when she realized that he had a lead.

"Female victim is Maria Lopez, age 22, registered shapeshifter that lives with her parents. Cam found a useable fingerprint under the tape. Her parents live near Rock Creek Park," Booth said with impatient excitement. "Let's go question them, Bones."

"I could go question them with you, Agent Booth," Daisy offered hopefully. Booth concealed a shudder and turned to Brennan.

"Ms. Wick, please learn all you can about the male victim's remains and then remove the rest of the flesh and debris," she said firmly to her intern. Daisy's expressive face fell, but she acquiesced and continued her observations. Brennan peeled off her gloves and placed them in the biohazard bin underneath the table before she joined Booth.

"Just let me get my things, then we can leave," she said, making her way to her office.

"Well, chop chop, Bones," Booth chivvied. "We've got a murderer to catch."

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><p>AN: Thanks for all your reviews, alerts and favorites so far. And a special thank you to my anonymous reviewers! I love hearing from you!


	5. Chasing Down Facts

A/N: Spanish is not my first language. I tried to make it accurate as well as give the shifter culture it's own terms (which is really hard if you aren't familiar with the language!) Hopefully I pulled it off. Also a huge thanks to The Vegna for making some changes to this chapter!

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><p><strong>Chasing Down Facts<strong>

The black Toyota Sequoia pulled smoothly up to a line of dirty apartment buildings in the Mt. Pleasant district, a known Salvadoran neighborhood. Armed with the reconstructions of the victims, the partners worked their way up to Maria Lopez's apartment address. An older woman opened the door nervously, her broad frontal bone and high, robust zygomatic bones gave her the same outline as the victim. The lines of age were growing across her face, her tired eyes starting to wrinkle.

"No sé nada," she claimed guardedly when Booth showed her his badge. As she repeated that she knew nothing, she began to close the door, but Brennan spoke up.

"Queremos hablar acerca de tu niña, Maria," Brennan said, telling her why they needed to talk to her. The door stayed cracked hesitantly, then opened wider.

"¿Qué pasó con Maria?" Señora Lopez demanded. The movement of the door pushed a wave of body odor towards them and while it was very sharp, it wasn't distinctly unpleasant to Booth and Brennan. It marked the Lopez home as the den of a Pack, rather than the messy home of a human family.

"¿Usted habla Inglés?" Brennan asked in deference to Booth. She could translate if she needed to, but she knew that Booth could read people better when he knew what they were talking about. He would be more comfortable if Señora Lopez spoke English.

"Yes, I speak English," she said. "Why do you speak to me about Maria? Maria is a good girl." Her hand that held the door shook slightly; two foreign Alphas uninvited to a den was nearly an act of invasion. They weren't aggressive, but Alphas exuded an air of dominance which never boded well in another pack's home.

"Mrs. Lopez, I'm afraid that we have some bad news for you. Maria's body was found today in Rock Creek Park," Booth said compassionately.

"¡Madre de Dios!" Mrs. Lopez whispered in horror, reverting back to her native language in her grief. "¿Maria está muerto?"

"Yes, she is dead," Brennan confirmed. Mrs. Lopez crossed herself and muttered prayers as she began to cry. Booth crossed himself out of respect, and Brennan watched quietly, wondering what she should do. Mrs. Lopez shuddered with sobs, but pulled her composure around her as she accepted Booth's handkerchief.

"We need to ask you some questions, Mrs. Lopez," Booth said gently.

"Come in," she said, clutching the handkerchief as she opened the door. Brennan looked around the small area, noticing that she could hear the lives of the other tenants in the building through the thin walls. She spotted the pictures and items on the mantle in the small living room. Among votive candles with pictures of saints and other holy symbols were several photographs. The pictures showed a small group of people that showed similar characteristics, most likely a family unit. Señora Lopez was stern, as was the older man who looked like her husband. Their children were arrayed in the picture. Maria was hugging a young man who looked very displeased with his family and especially Maria, but he still hugged her back. He was only a couple years older than Maria at the most.

"When was the last time you saw Maria?" Booth asked. He scratched his nose quickly, as the mother turned to look at the pictures of Maria for a moment.

"She went to mass last Sunday," she said, dabbing at her eyes.

"Do you know what her plans were?" he continued.

"I know that it had been a long time since she…how do you say it? Changed?" she stumbled with her words, then turned to Brennan, "Dio a luz al lobo."

"Señora Lopez says her daughter shifted into her wolf form," Brennan translated.

"Yes, shifted. She shifted to her wolf. I did not expect to see her for weeks."

"Mrs. Lopez, did Maria have any close friends or a romantic partner?"

"Her friends were from her work and from church. There was one girl, her name was also Maria. Maria Chavez and my Maria would shift together."

Booth wrote down Maria Chavez's information and asked again about a boyfriend. "No, I do not know of a boyfriend," Señora Lopez said bitterly.

"Was there anything unusual about Maria when you saw her last? Any new developments in her life?" Booth questioned.

"She was happy. She did not tell me that anything was different. Maria went home with her friend after mass."

"Do you recognize this man?" Booth asked, holding out Angela's sketch of the male victim. Señora Lopez shook her head.

"I have never seen him before," she said, touching the edge of the picture with one finger. "Was he the one who did this to Maria?" she asked, her voice breaking as she said her daughter's name.

"No, ma'am," Booth said. He didn't give out information, and Brennan wondered if she should supply what she knew about the human victim, but Booth gave her a look, not too subtly saying that she should keep her mouth shut. He extended his card to Señora Lopez, telling her to call if she remembered anything. Booth and Brennan showed themselves out, leaving the grieving mother in the living room.

Booth took a deep breath when he exited and sneezed explosively once to expel the scent of the apartment. Being in another male's territory was difficult for Booth, despite his human form. Brennan watched him with curiosity, but suffered no ill effects herself. Females, both human and shifter, have always followed a different set of rules than males. They began to walk down the corridor to the stairs when they were stopped by a young, attractive African-American woman who stepped out of an apartment near the Lopez's.

"You're a cop," she said, pointing at Booth. She turned to Brennan and looked her up and down. "I don't know what you are. Some kind of social worker?" Brennan looked offended, but Booth beat her to the introductions before she could open her mouth.

"Special Agent Seeley Booth, and this here's my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan from the Jeffersonian Institute," he said, knowing that if someone from this part of town willingly talked to the cops, the information was either very important or a total waste of time.

"I don't want to get involved with the werewolves," she said, throwing the slur into the air casually. The partners' expressions remained still, with only a mild cough from Booth. "They're into some freaky things. But I heard about Maria. I liked her and she didn't deserve to die. She did my hair for me at a discount," she explained, touching her hair lightly, as if it was a memorial to Maria.

"Anything you can tell us could be helpful," Brennan told her. The woman watched Booth suspiciously and decided to talk to Brennan and ignore the agent.

"Listen, I heard Maria arguing with a guy. They were really going at it. I didn't understand everything, cuz they were switching from Spanish to English, ya know? But he was shouting, 'If you talk to him again, I'll kill you.' If you want to find your killer, talk to him." She started to leave, considering her duty to Maria done, before she was stopped by Brennan's hand on her arm.

"Do you know who she was arguing with?" she asked. She took the picture of the male victim from Booth and held it up for the woman. "Was it this man?"

"No, that's Maria's boyfriend. I don't know his name, but she used to meet him on the sly at the beauty salon. Her family didn't like him. No, I'm talking about…" she looked passed Booth and Brennan and pointed. "I'm talking about Maria's brother."

They turned and Brennan recognized the guy leaning in the opposite side of the hallway with a few young men his age, listening to music from an old school boom box. He dressed in a grey hoodie with silver dog tags proudly displayed around his neck, and he was clearly the young man in the Lopez family pictures. As soon as he saw them turn, his body shifted quickly, running for the stairs at the back of the building as his friends took off in opposite directions.

"FBI, stop!" Booth shouted after the fleeing suspect. Booth chased after him, with Brennan following. Despite Maria's brother having a head start and knowing the area better, Booth closed the gap between them quickly, almost able to reach him. The man leapt from the stairs on to the tarmac below, landing lightly as Booth's thicker frame dropped behind him. Lopez dodged people and hopped trash cans, Booth close on his trail with Brennan a few feet behind. People scattered as they saw them coming, and Booth gained enough ground to almost grab the back of Maria's brother's hoodie.

However, Lopez's familiarity with the territory began to tell on Booth. When Lopez turned into an alleyway that looked barely big enough to squeeze in a cat, Booth overshot it by several steps. Brennan got there first, and despite Booth's warnings, she moved into the alley. Her slim shoulders and hips barely fit without scraping the sides, and Booth had to turn sideways but even then it was a tight fit. She could see the young man ahead of her, turned slightly sideways to accommodate the width of his shoulders. He was very, very skinny. So skinny that he looked like a concentration camp victim under his baggy clothes. Brennan had seen that phenomenon before, and it rarely turned out well for a young shapeshifter.

Lopez darted out of the alley and ran between buildings until he reached the street. Brennan and Booth squeezed out, but he was gone before they got to the main street. He could have gotten into a car or gone into a building, but wherever he had gone, they were without their suspect. Booth kicked out angrily at some trash left on the sidewalk; Brennan rested an arm against a brick wall for breath. He sighed and pulled out his cell phone, calling an APB on Maria's brother, adding a description and the fact that he was a person of interest in a murder.

Brennan's phone rang as Booth finished talking to dispatch. She pulled out her phone and identified herself as a way to begin conversation, "Brennan." She listened to the voice on the other end and hung up. Booth was finished with his phone call by the time they were through.

"Cam is finished with the autopsy. I should get back to the lab, if we have no one else to question," she told him, her breathing still slightly off.

"Okay, I'll drop you at the lab. You can do your magic bone thingy and get me some more information about who killed them. I'll make some calls and try to find out more about Maria's brother and her mystery boyfriend. One of her friends probably knows his name."

"It isn't magic, Booth," Brennan lectured out of principle rather than a real desire to change his thinking, as they moved back through the packed streets towards the apartments.

"Everyone needs a little magic, Bones," he said firmly, spotting his SUV. "And you're my magic."

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><p>AN: I love the comments and reviews I've gotten so far. I love hearing what you think!


	6. Searching for the Truth

A/N: I am very grateful for all the reviews, favorites and alerts I've gotten so far. It's amazing at a truly AU story has had such a wonderful reception. Thank you so much. And a very special thank you to my awesome beta who has made this story read ever so smoothly.

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><p><strong>Chapter 6: Searching for the Truth<strong>

The day was ending, by the time Brennan arrived at the lab, passing a steady stream of exiting employees as she entered. Dr. Saroyan paced into her office a few minutes later, asking for updates and telling her what she had learned from the body.

"Shifting proteins were at critical levels in the tissues," Cam said, handing Brennan the transcribed autopsy report.

"That was expected, given the molted layer of epidermis found near the body," Brennan responded, opening the report and flipping to the test results. The numbers surprised her. "Critical levels" was a mild way of putting it. Simply put, a critical level of shifting proteins meant that there was enough to cause the person to change from their form. There was a normal range for shapeshifters, and each shifter had their own threshold level. However, Maria's levels were excessively high, almost twice the normal level. That suggested that she hadn't shifted on her own, but that someone had given her injections of shifting factors—by-products of hormones in the body that caused a shift.

Injections of shifting factors had to be prescribed by a doctor. "Could we use the shifting factors that caused her shift to trace it to a specific person?" Brennan asked.

"All the shifting factors were used when the victim shifted, so there's no more left in the tissue, but Hodgins swabbed the injection site. Perhaps he'll find something," Cam responded. "There were also clear bite marks on both the forearms. I've taken a mold of them. Hopefully we'll find a match in the SSDU, on the off chance that the marks were made by a shapeshifter." The Shapeshifter Dentition and Ungula database kept a cast of all the registered shapeshifter's bite and claw marks in order to be able to match them like a fingerprint in case of a criminal investigation.

"Thank you, Dr. Saroyan," she said, looking at the autopsy pictures of the bite marks. They were somewhat obscured by scavenging, but her specialty wasn't flesh. She would have to look at the bones to see if the bite marks were likely made by a shapeshifter or if they were made by a natural animal.

"Well, I have to get going," Cam said, motioning to the door. "Michelle is getting an award on Honors night at her school, and so we "have" to go shopping for a new outfit for it. Apparently, it's just impossible to wear the same thing to Honors night and graduation."

"I wouldn't worry. I'm sure that her desire to attain social status, through finery, will diminish as soon as she is subject to the issues of personal income," Brennan said absently, still involved in the report. She brought her focus back to Cam. "Then goodnight, Dr. Saroyan."

"Goodnight, Brennan," Cam said as she walked out the doorway.

Angela stopped in to say goodbye with her husband in tow after her, despite his protests that he still had things he needed to do. The lab slowly became quieter, as one by one the minds who made the Jeffersonian hum with ideas left for the day.

Daisy had put the bones into the boiler, but they had not yet been cleaned. There were still a couple of hours that Brennan could use to be productive before she left, and the quiet was conducive to intense study. She took the x-rays and the digital copies and carried them to her office. There, she loaded the data onto her computer and put the x-rays onto the light box.

Maria was clearly a shapeshifter. Cam's report of the condition of the soft tissue showed that, but not as clearly as the evidence left on the bones. Each time a shapeshifter completed a shift, going from human to animal then back to human, a ridge of calcified material was left on the long bones. It looked very similar to the remodelling of a bone after a complete break. Brennan began to count the rings circling the femurs, as these were the most clearly defined. There were twenty-three calcified ridges that indicated a shift had taken place. Depending on when Maria reached puberty, the number of rings showed that she had shifted an average of twice a year.

A shapeshifter was able to shift approximately once every three months after puberty, depending on the difficulty of a shift and the metabolism of the shapeshifter. Alternatively, the average shifter could delay a shift for up to two years with few serious health risks. If a shifter held off a shift any longer than two years the shapeshifter virus would cause rapid cellular growth. That rapid growth of the cells always led to cancer, if it was unchecked by a shift. The process of shifting caused the human cells – both cancerous and benign – to die as animal cells took their place. A shift created a blank slate in the body as it wiped away the abnormal cells that grew over time. But a shift always left its mark, especially on the bones.

The last ring near the femoral head was very large and rough. Brennan knew that a magnification of a cross section of the ridge would show evidence of osteoblast hyperactivity that built up the bone. The last ring was very new, most likely made within twenty-four hours of her death, before the osteoclasts smoothed it down like the other rings by eating away at the extraneous material. Brennan touched the x-rays lightly, knowing that her bones looked very similar to the victim's. She had shifted exactly 15 times in her life, and she knew that her history was carved into her skeletal structure for some future forensic anthropologist to read just as she read Maria's bones.

Daisy walked in as Brennan continued to study the shapeshifter bones. The anthropologist looked away from the light box briefly as her assistant spoke.

"Dr. Brennan? The bones are being cleaned right now, but I have those plans with Lance that I told you and Dr. Saroyan about. The Pack meeting, do you remember?" she asked timidly.

"I remember, Ms Wick," she said as she studied. Daisy stood in the doorway and looked and sounded so apprehensive that even Brennan noticed. "Do you need anything else?"

"Would you like to come to the Pack meeting with me and Lance?" she asked, hope lying naked on her face.

"I have no desire to be involved in a Pack, Ms Wick," she said sternly. The tone of her voice made Daisy flinch, even though Brennan's disapproval wasn't directed at her.

"I understand, but perhaps you could come and explain to the Pack that my responsibilities as your intern often require me to take time out of Pack duties?"

"Ms Wick, you will never become a leading forensic anthropologist without being able to be persuasive on your own."

"Yes, but…"

"Ms Wick, you have an excellent mind, and I only take interns from my brightest grad students," she said firmly. Daisy swelled at the praise, but Brennan continued, "However, you show a tendency to lose focus and you occasionally show a lack of original thought. Both of those traits could cause you to fail as a legitimate forensic anthropologist. While it is sometimes a good thing to depend on others to do what you cannot, if you depend on others to do your work for you, you become ineffective."

"I understand, Dr. Brennan, and rest assured, that I will take your words to heart and do my upmost to be a representative of the student that you could choose," she said fawningly. Her voice went pleading as she said, "But maybe I could mention your name to the Pack?"

"That will be all, Ms Wick," Brennan said without answering, dismissing her before she asked another question. Daisy looked like she was going to say more, but she turned and left. Brennan let out a silent sigh of relief that her irritating intern had left and turned back to the subject that truly interested her.

Brennan placed the x-rays of the ribs on the light box next to the femurs. There were shifting marks on the ribs as well, though none so well defined as the rings around the femurs. She also detected faint impressions on the ribs, but they were so faint that she couldn't tell what had caused them by looking at the x-rays. They weren't nicks from an edged weapon—that she could determine from the x-rays—but she would have to see the bones cleaned of flesh if she was to determine what blunt instrument caused them.

She concluded that the faint marks had been made either during or immediately following Maria's shift from wolf to human. They looked partially remodelled, but not with the same degree that a normal human body is capable of. During a shift, damage automatically corrected at an accelerated rate and it continued for several hours afterword. Brennan had experienced the benefits of the accelerated healing several times after a shift. Her coordination always suffered immediately following a shift, but in exchange, many bruises, burns and scrapes from falling or dropping things were healed in hours instead of days by the aftereffects of the shifting process.

She placed the bones of the arm on the light box next. The radius and ulna in the forearm went up first and next to those the humerus of the upper arm. Immediately she noticed the pattern of indentions on the bones of the forearm. They were likely the bite marks that Dr. Saroyan had reported. These had also undergone remodelling, most likely as a result of the shift, but some were sharper in the picture, their outlines clearly delineated with very little remodelling, if any. They must have been made very near her death. The images were fairly clear on the x-rays, but she wanted to look at the bones themselves to get a clearer picture.

Her phone rang, startling her out of her peaceful contemplation of the bones. She answered it as usual. "Brennan."

"Hey, Bones," Booth said cheerfully. "You still at the lab?"

"Yes," she said, as if there was no other answer.

"Of course," Booth said teasingly, "It wouldn't do to have the great Dr. Brennan going home from work when the normal people leave. That just wouldn't do. It might make the squints think that they can work less than an eighteen hour work day."

"That's ridiculous, Booth," she said defensively.

"Exactly, Bones. It's ridiculous, so you shouldn't have to hold yourself to that standard," he argued.

"I'll leave soon, but I've just received the x-rays for Maria Lopez. I wanted to go over them right now so that I can be ready to examine the skeleton tomorrow morning."

"Don't work too long tonight, Bones. I need you sharp on this case. Anyways, I was calling because I found the identity of your skeleton in the lab. Roberto Martinez; moved here two years ago from Los Angeles. That's all that Maria's friends knew, but I dug a little deeper. His visa expired last October and he's been living here illegally since then. I get the impression that he's bounced around a while, but decided to put down roots here in DC. I can't find any family here, but I found his missing person's report. His boss reported him missing three weeks ago when he didn't show up for work at his farm for a few days."

"Why didn't Angela's sketch find a match in missing persons?" Brennan asked, disturbed at the thought that her best friend was losing her edge. The sketch matched the victim's remains to the best of her knowledge and Angela's talent. It should have brought up a match.

"I had a little talk with the police chief about that. It seems that when they found out he was an illegal alien; they decided that he wasn't missing, but just moved on. The cop didn't finish completing the missing persons report," Booth said grimly.

"I can't believe they were that irresponsible," Brennan fumed.

"I know, Bones," he commiserated. "I had them all scrambling for lawyers by the time I was finished with them. They won't repeat the mistake, trust me."

"I don't like the fact that society can disregard people because of what they are or what they do," she confided in a quieter tone. Booth knew that she was comparing Roberto Martinez's situation to their own. Shapeshifters had gotten the short stick all throughout history. He gripped his dog tags as he listened to her voice.

"Society is made up of people, you know," he said, wanting to get rid of that sad little girl voice.

"Of course I know that Booth," she said sharply. "I'm not an idiot." Booth smiled on the other side of the line, picturing the indignation on her face.

"I mean, we're part of society too. And we're doing what we can to change it from the inside."

"Most societies take centuries to integrate with other cultures." she said so softly that Booth wasn't sure that she had really said it. "It doesn't seem like enough,"

"It will be, Bones," he said, just as softly. They were quiet together for a few moments.

"I'm going to get back to work, Booth," Brennan said, reluctantly breaking the silence.

"You do that, Bones," Booth said, letting his dog tags drop back to his chest. "But don't work too late, 'kay?"

"I am capable of setting my own working hours, Booth," she said.

"See you tomorrow," he promised.

"Tomorrow, then," she responded. She ended the call reluctantly, but decisively put it back in her pocket and turned to the x-rays. Brennan returned to changing the world the best way she knew how, through the bones.

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><p>AN: I really do love hearing what you think. All your thoughts are welcome!


	7. Push Through the Pain

A/N: This chapter takes a darker turn. I hope you'll stick with me through it. I'm impressed and pleased with all the very insightful messages I've received. They've really made this easier (and more fun) to write. Thank you so much!

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><p><strong>Chapter 7: Push Through the Pain<strong>

Booth awoke before his alarm went off. Again. He signed as he laid there in bed, just thinking about how wonderful it would be to sleep just another hour more. He'd had trouble sleeping since the doc's had found the bone cancer a month ago, buried in the damaged part of his spine. The pain had made sleeping irregular at best, impossible at worst. The doctors had given him six months if he didn't shift, but right now he was feeling like he had less than 24 hours. It would lessen as he got up and started moving, but in the meantime, everything hurt. To get rid of it, he needed to shift, and shift soon.

Groaning as he dragged himself out of bed, he got ready for his day two hours ahead of schedule. He jogged a circuit around his neighborhood, taking a different route from the day before. His run became more of a pleasure than a torment around mile two, and he felt almost human around mile three. Loosening his muscles helped with the pain, though he imagined Brennan saying in that adorable, science-y way of hers that it was the endorphins and adrenaline from the run that deadened the pain.

Taking his time, he went through his morning routine, showering and dressing in his suit and tie, but slipping on his supportive shoes rather than the shiny, uncomfortable ones. His feet still ached from the trauma they had undergone as a prisoner of war, even though he had 21 shifts under his belt. He slipped on Cocky; he needed all the self-esteem boost he could get when he felt like something that someone scraped of the bottom of their shoe with a stick.

His alarm shrilled on his nightstand, reminding him that he was up too early. Booth turned it off vengefully, slapping it into silence. He decided to get his breakfast at the diner, rather than eat in his silent, echoing apartment. It was early enough that traffic was light and there were only a couple of construction workers at the diner, sitting at the counter. He ordered his high protein breakfast and coffee, then on impulse ordered a large bowl of fruit and a second cuppa joe. He ran it over in his mind, deciding to eat at the Jeffersonian. It was better than sitting in the Hoover like a loser, whilst everyone else rushed in three minutes past the hour.

With his to-go bag in hand, he wandered into the famous Medico-Legal Lab of the Jeffersonian. The security guards greeted him by name, used to the odd hours that he and his partner kept during a case. He nodded to them, friendly enough to show that he appreciated them, but casual enough to show them that he was more dominant than simple security guards. He was startled as he saw the lights on in the Medico-Legal Lab, but shrugged it off until he entered through the sliding glass doors. The smell of antiseptic and decomposition along with a faint hint of, what he called, the dust of history greeted him as he walked into the lab area. The first thing he saw was Brennan standing on the platform, bent over some bones laid out on one of those shiny tables.

"Bones, please don't tell me you worked here all night!" he exclaimed, striding up to the edge of the platform. She had different clothes on under the lab coat than the day before, but that didn't mean anything, she always kept a change of clothes here.

"I just came in, Booth," she said, startled out of her study of the bones. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to give you some breakfast," he said, covering his half-baked excuse with a charming smile and a bowl of fruit with a large coffee. Her look of suspicion was very cute.

"But you were surprised to see me," she said, logically working it out. "Therefore you weren't here to give me breakfast."

"I was just going to leave it on your desk for you," he blustered. He shook the bowl of fruit a little, feeling the pieces bump against the plastic lid. Slowly, her face softened as she removed her gloves and stepped down from the platform, walking to her office with him in step. She looked gorgeous, as usual. Her dog tags were visible today, lightly clinking against her V-neck shirt. He still hadn't got used to his as it tangled with his St. Christopher's medal, and wondered, did Brennan hate hers and all they stood for too?

"Why are you awake so early?" Brennan asked, taking off her lab coat. She answered her own question in an instant, reading his body the way he read her emotions. "The pain is getting worse."

Her sympathetic voice was almost more than he could bear. "It's fine, Bones. I just wanted to get a jump on this case, that's all," he said, brushing off her concern. They climbed up the stairs to the lounge up top. Brennan microwaved some instant oatmeal, adding in a generous helping of chopped pecans while Booth opened his box containing a huge mound of eggs, several strips of bacon, and a sausage biscuit. When she sat down next to him with her breakfast, he offered her a strip of bacon. She declined gracefully.

"It's so weird that you don't eat meat," he commented, crunching happily. "I mean, what do you do when you shift? Eat grass?"

"No, I only eat what I hunt. It's much healthier that way. I just don't eat overly processed foods like bacon," she explained, not for the first time.

"It's still weird. I mean, we're carnivores. You'd think you'd eat meat no matter what form you were in." His mouth was full of eggs as he talked, but Brennan ignored him and continued eating her fruit and oatmeal. "So, did you find anything on the bones you got up bright and early to look at?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered, swallowing the last grape from the bowl before continuing. "I assume that Cam told you about the bite marks on the forearms." At his nod, she went on, "I examined them, and the dimensions match a lupine shapeshifter."

Booth grimaced and explained, "We're running the mold through the SSDU, but even Angela's magic database scanner isn't speeding up the process much because they've just recently started to go digital with this and the records are a mess."

"Why does everything have to be magic with you, Booth?" she asked teasingly. Booth smiled and bumped her shoulder with his.

"Why does everything have to be science with you, Bones?" he shot back. They shared a sweet, teasing smile. Booth inhaled the unique scent of deep green jungle with cool pools of water that defined her. She always smelled like she had just come from stalking game in a lush forest, even when she had been dealing with dead things all day. That smell drew him in and haunted his dreams more times than he could count. While she could go on all day about pheromones and ideal candidates to sire progeny, he knew—deep down knew—it was that old black magic that had him in its spell.

The spell was broken by voices floating up from the entrance. They both looked down at whoever was at the lab before they absolutely had to be. Daisy walked in, followed closely by Sweets. Booth could tell that they were arguing, and it was clear to him that Sweets was losing.

"You can take the day off, you know," Sweets said, trailing behind his mate. "I know that Dr. Saroyan would authorize a personal day."

"Lance, I'm fine," she shot back, moving into the Ookie room to retrieve her grey lab coat. Booth and Brennan watched the tops of their heads, not wanting to eavesdrop, but also not wanting to get involved in an argument between them. By mutual consent they threw away their empty breakfast containers and quickly washed up. The running water obscured Sweets' and Daisy's voices as Brennan washed her bowl and spoon, setting them out to dry.

"Dr. Brennan is my thesis professor, as well as the best forensic anthropologist in the world, Lance. Do you think I would jeopardize my internship for a day off in the middle of a big case? No," Daisy said harshly. Her voice sounded so different from her usual spirit, it was hollow.

Booth stood awkwardly away from the edge of the catwalk, hoping that he could remain oblivious if he didn't see them and they didn't see him. Brennan had a different idea. After everything was put away, she walked downstairs, not looking behind her to see if Booth was following. Which left Booth no choice but to follow. Trust Brennan to take the least tactful way out of this mess.

"I'm just saying that you can take it easy for one day. Give yourself time to…" Sweets trailed off when he saw Brennan and Booth on the stairs.

"Dr. Brennan!" Daisy gasped. She turned her face away from the partners quickly, but not before they saw. Daisy's normally cheerful face was white and strained, and her left eye was swollen and turning a nasty shade of reddish-purple. Sweets looked roughed up as well. His pouty red lips were puffy and scabbed, his jaw holding a bruise to match Daisy's black eye.

"What happened?" Booth asked sternly. His gut clenched as the sight of Daisy looking so ashamed. It brought back the memories of his father throwing hurtful words at him, followed by his fists; the bruises that didn't fade in time for the junior prom. He remembered the feel of his grandfather's old pistol as he thought about ending his life. He hoped that it wasn't what he thought it was, but he didn't let that hope get in the way of his search for the truth.

"It's nothing, Agent Booth," Daisy said, gathering her pride and tossing the words with an arrogant tilt of her head. She had used a body wash with a slight perfume to cover her scent, but Brennan and Booth still smelled the bitter odor of her fear. Booth watched his partner out of the corner of his eye and saw that she was as distressed at the young couple's injuries as he was. He wondered if she had ever gone to school with only mediocre excuses to cover a black eye or bruised face.

"It's a Pack matter," Sweets growled quietly. Booth felt the hopelessness radiating off Sweets and the young psychologist's eyes were not quite lifted high enough to meet Booth's. "You wouldn't understand."

"Just because I'm not a part of a Pack doesn't mean I wouldn't understand," Booth said, stepping forward to tower over the hunched Sweets. Sweets' scent let Booth know that he was intimidated, but he held his ground reluctantly.

"You aren't a wolf like us," he countered, still not meeting either Booth or Brennan's eyes. His entire body was tensed, ready to run away at the first hint of danger. "We were born this way and we have to live this way. You weren't. So just leave it be."

"You are an intelligent young man, Dr. Sweets," Brennan said. Booth was glad that she finally snapped out of her memories and entered the conversation. "And you know that it doesn't matter whether or not you were born this way. You must see that abuse is wrong. Even a soft science like psychology recognizes that."

"Don't insult him right now, Bones," Booth whispered to Brennan. She meant well, but, man was she as tactless as ever.

"I'm not insulting him. I'm merely pointing out the faults of his chosen profession," Brennan whispered back.

"I'm just saying that you should think about what you say to a victim of abuse before you just spout off whatever you want," he said, still in the whisper that everyone heard.

"We're assuming that they are victims of abuse. Maybe they got into a bar fight," Brennan mused. She turned to Sweets and Daisy and asked, "Did you engage in physical altercation at a bar?"

"Jeez, Bones," Booth whined, "It's obvious that they didn't get into a bar fight. I mean, can you see Sweets in a bar fight?"

"I'll assume that question was rhetorical," she responded.

"Hey!" Sweets protested, "That's worse than not answering!"

The partner's side argument partially diffused the tension. It was so typically "them" that Daisy had time to gain her composure and Sweets slowly straightened from his hunched, tense position. Sweets met Booth's eyes cautiously.

"We'd appreciate it if you didn't make a big deal out of this," Sweets requested.

"I don't like to see my colleagues hurt," Brennan confessed. Booth saw that shrink-y look in Sweets' eye at Brennan's admission. He knew that it was going to bite them later in their counseling sessions, but he was still proud of her for saying it.

"If someone in the Pack is messing with you…" Booth began.

"Cesar decided to hand out punishments and rewards last night," Daisy said, raising her chin so she could look them in the eye. Eye contact was fraught with meaning within the structure of a Pack. Although Booth and Brennan didn't care to involve themselves within that structure, they appreciated the effort it took for Daisy and Sweets, who were both submissive wolves, to make eye contact with two alphas. Daisy went on, "I arrived at the meeting late and the Alpha couldn't let my disrespect to the Pack pass. Lance stood up for me." Her manner when she talked about her mate was soft and adoring and Sweets smiled shyly at her proud tone, displaying his busted lip. Despite the annoyance that he could be capable of, Booth was proud of the kid for what he did, too.

"I still don't believe that physical abuse is the way to punish an offender, especially for something as trivial as arriving late," Brennan said angrily.

"Is there another Pack you could transfer to?" Booth asked pragmatically.

"Neither of us have any family in the area," Sweets said quietly. Daisy rubbed his arm lightly in comfort, knowing that he missed his foster parents very much. "If the Families won't take us in, we have to join the larger DC Pack for protection. Otherwise we'll be on our own."

"We're not like you," Daisy said, looking back and forth between the agent and her mentor. "It's part of who we are, as much as we hate it sometimes. We couldn't survive without the protection of a pack."

"And the Pack reigns supreme," Booth said in a sarcastic manner.

"I understand you've had your disagreements with the DC Pack," Sweets said, "But it's not all bad. They've helped us through some tough spots. I would never have made it through school if not for the Pack."

"And I would never have survived my first shift," Daisy chimed in, "I was only 14 and I didn't have any family to guide me through. I would have never survived until my fifteenth birthday without the Pack."

"I understand that you feel loyal to the Pack, but you shouldn't feel bad about wanting a better life," Booth argued.

"There is no 'better life' for us without the Pack," Sweets said forcefully. "Wolves are not meant to be alone. We have to have a pack around us, or we're not complete." He still looked scared and unsure, but Booth and Brennan's attitude and staunch support was easing the hopelessness out of his face. His bitter scent had eased as well, letting the partners relax a little. The submissive wolves' fear triggered all of the two alphas' protective instincts.

"We would have to move out of DC to find a pack to take us in," Daisy said, and her glance around was enough to tell Booth how devastated she felt at the thought of leaving this place.

"Well, maybe we could open an investigation…" Booth suggested doubtfully, but Sweets cut him off before he could go any further.

"That would just make things worse," he said, shaking his head. "The Alpha is under a lot of pressure from the government right now. There's this dude from Shifter Affairs that's waiting for him to step out of line legally. The Alpha keeps to the letter of the law, and has a team of lawyers ready to back him up. If you open an FBI investigation, we could be the ones charged with challenging his authority. I can't take him on in a trial by combat." Sweets looked nervous just thinking the idea.

A challenge to the authority of someone who was higher in the Pack might result in some type of fight for dominance. Traditionally the fight for dominance has been physical, but there were precedents for financial wars or even contests in different categories. However, the fight for Alpha of a Pack was always a physical fight in animal form to surrender or to the death. Many times the challenging alpha shifter wouldn't surrender, even at the point of death, and the current Alpha was forced to kill the upstart shifter to secure his or her position. It was legal according to the Shapeshifter Laws of 1997, upheld by _Wright v. United States_. If the Alpha could prove in a court of law that Sweets and Daisy were challenging his authority with the intention of seizing control of the Pack, he could literally get away with murder.

Daisy shuddered, clutching her mate's arm for comfort. Her eyes went helplessly to Booth and then Brennan. "Don't worry," Booth reassured her, "We won't do anything to cause you trouble with your Alpha."

"Although he might respond to reason if I spoke with him," Brennan said musingly.

"Trust me, Bones," Booth said, chuckling a little, "You're the last person who he would respond to reasonably."

"What does that mean?" she asked angrily. "I am a very rational person, and I would be able to argue logically with anyone. Do you doubt my logic?" Booth realized that what he meant hadn't come out of his mouth with the same effect he wanted. While trying to pay her a compliment about how she affected male shapeshifters, he had unwittingly hit Brennan where it hurt the most—her precious logic. Brennan turned on him, almost forgetting the interested couple in front of them. Booth glanced at Sweets, as the other male in the room, but he seemed amused and not inclined to help out another guy.

"Bones, I just meant that Cesar Delgado wouldn't respond rationally to you, no matter how persuasive you were," he said, tap dancing around saying the true reasons. "Just let it go, Bones."

"Why? Why wouldn't an Alpha respond to me rationally if I explained my reasoning clearly and concisely?" she asked. Booth sighed. Of course Brennan wouldn't let it drop. But Booth gained a reprieve when the door to the lab slid open and Hodgins walked through. Daisy gave a little squeak and ran off to start her day before Hodgins saw her.

"Hey," Hodgins said, checking his watch, "Am I late and don't know it?" he joked. Booth wasn't in the mood, but he smiled tightly at the bug man. Brennan squinched up her face adorably in confusion.

"Of course not, Dr. Hodgins. We simply arrived early for various reasons. Do you need my expertise on something?" Brennan said, watching as Hodgins looked back and forth between the three standing there, trying to figure out the subtext. When he saw Sweets he gave a low, admiring whistle.

"What happened to you, man? Did Angela's dad get a hold of you?" he said, looking impressed at Sweets' split lip and bruised jaw.

"Something like that," Sweets deflected. He nodded to the two partners and then to Hodgins. "I'd better go. Tell Daisy I'm picking her up for lunch." He left in a hurry, the doors sliding closed behind him.

"I'd better get to work too," Booth said, angling his head toward the door. "You know, do some investigating."

He left, giving a little wave to Brennan as he followed Sweets' path out the door. As Booth disappeared through the door, Brennan turned and climbed the stairs to the platform to look at the bones again. Hodgins was left standing confused in the middle of the lab.

"Whoa, did everyone just leave because of me?"

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><p>AN: I'd still love to hear from you!


	8. Uncovering Answers

A/N: Thank you for your patience. I hope you still stick with the shifters as their world (and the case) unfolds. Many thanks to my beta reader!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8: Uncovering Answers<strong>

Booth was still early when he arrived at the Hoover. His breakfast with his partner had not been the nice, slow, lingering start to his day that he had imagined. It started that way, but then they had been hit head on with Sweets and Daisy's situation.

He was feeling tense, and the pain was creeping back into his body. He wanted to do something for the young couple, but each time he thought of a solution, he also thought of a way that it could blow up in their face like one of Hodgins' misguided experiments. Needing to let go of some tension, he took his weapon and headed to the range. After putting several rounds into the innocent paper silhouette, he felt a bit better. He rolled his shoulders, feeling tension ease somewhat as he pulled his earplugs out.

"So, Booth," an unwanted voice called from over his shoulder, "Did you catch your killer yet?" Booth hit the button to bring the silhouette forward with more force than necessary as Agent Carlos Suarez nosily watched over his shoulder. The bullet holes were grouped in a cluster the size of a dollar coin. Agent Suarez smirked at the paper as he watched Booth jerk it down and fold it up. Booth didn't say anything, which made the smirk on Suarez's face grow.

"I know where your boy might be," Agent Suarez said mockingly. It took Booth a few seconds to connect Carlos's statement with the APB that he had put out on Maria's brother.

"What do you know about it?" Booth asked reluctantly. As much as he disliked the guy personally, Booth knew that they were both FBI and wanted the same thing—bad guys off the streets of DC.

"He hangs out with some lackeys from Mara Muerte. I have some of my guys picking him up from one of their bolt holes right now," the gang task force agent said. He slapped Booth's chest, and hit him right on his dog tags underneath his shirt. Booth couldn't figure out whether that was intentional or just a lucky shot. Carlos stepped into Booth's space, getting into his face with that smirk. "You're slipping, Booth. Told you that you were too close to this, _lobo_."

It was Booth's turn to smirk as the agent called him a wolf. He assumed that because he was a shapeshifter, his animal was a wolf like the majority of the DC shapeshifters. He stepped even closer to Carlos, turning on the intimidation. Booth could smell the nervous sweat on the other agent and kept the pressure on him as he stared him down. He needed the gang task force's goodwill for this case and for the future, but oh, did he want to just punch the smirk right off his face.

"Thanks for the help, Suarez," he said, then brushed passed the agent forcefully, bumping his shoulder with Suarez's hard enough to rock him back a step. It was petty of him, but he felt better for it.

Once back in his office, he tried to push everything out of his mind except Maria Lopez and Roberto Martinez, the ill-fated lovers who were killed about three weeks apart in the same place with the same MO. He wondered if Bones had found something on the body. Hodgins could have found something, too. He had looked too excited to come to work that early in the morning for it to be anything other than the thrill of the chase. Even squints felt that burning excitement when you saw the threads that bound the killer to the victim creating a picture rather than a tangled mess. Maybe he should go back to the Jeffersonian and check on whatever he'd found.

Booth reigned himself in. If the squints found anything, Bones would call him straightaway. She was as dedicated to the case as he was. Booth knew that all his thinking and rationalizing boiled down to just a lame ploy to go back to the Jeffersonian and see his partner. He trusted his partner to inform him of anything on the science side of things while he concentrated on the things she rarely grasped: the motives of the people involved, getting a feel for what their lives were like, and sorting through the lies that led him to the truth.

Besides, he was needed here at the Hoover. If Suarez actually came through for him and found Maria's brother, then Booth would want to question him without delay. Only the guilty ran from the police, and Luis Lopez looked as guilty as they came. His background check pulled up a sealed juvenile file and a few petty thefts with ties to the gang organization Mara Muerte. His mug shot showed him as a healthy young man, without a trace of the death-like skeleton under his skin that he had become. In the photo, Luis had a Mara Muerte tattoo across his chest. Booth looked closer at the tattoo, knowing that shapeshifters shed their skin after a shift, and every tattoo had to be reapplied after changing form. He had his tattoos on his wrists inked after every shift for sentimental reasons, but a kid like Luis might not want to fork over the extra dough to get his gang tat done again every time.

The next mug shot showed Luis in his wolf form. He was a gray wolf, larger than a natural animal, but still small compared to some of the wolves that Booth had seen. One of the shifters in his platoon had weighed in at 250 pounds of pure muscle with the teeth to go with it, but Luis was probably 120 or 130 pounds tops. His gray fur was scraggly and patchy, indicating a recent shift, but his coloring still showed through, with patches of black amid the gray on his chest and ears, and one shockingly white forepaw. Booth had never seen such distinct coloring before, and wondered if it was hereditary. Bones would probably know if it was something like that.

He checked into the Lopez family. Maria and Luis' father, Emilio Lopez, was the head of a small family pack at the edge of the Little Salvador section of DC. He, his wife, his two children, and two of his wife's cousins and their non-shapeshifter mates made up the entire Lopez Pack. Emilio answered to the Alpha of the DC Pack, Cesar Delgado, but it was out of courtesy because he was the Alpha of the region as well as a specific pack, rather than truly being under Delgado's authority.

The rest of the family came up clean. They were all registered shapeshifters in the SSDU with permits to shift at any protected wilderness area. Emilio and Guadalupe had immigrated to the US twenty-five years ago, and both their children had been born in the States. Guadalupe's cousins had moved a few years later, and with four adult shapeshifters in one family, Emilio had applied for permission to create a Pack. The family had kept out of trouble until Luis came along.

Family Packs like the Lopez Pack were natural, with only close family as members and the mating pair as Alphas. They rarely had any serious problems with infighting and dominance issues because those who had a problem with how the pack was managed simply left to start their own family. The little Lopez Pack didn't seem very much like the giant DC Pack. Unlike Emilio Lopez, Cesar Delgado ruled his Pack with an iron fist and he and his team of lawyers bullied, bribed, and bargained to keep his power over the hundreds who sought protection and support through his Pack.

Thinking about the DC Pack made Booth's thoughts shift to those who suffered under Delgado's thumb, namely Sweets and Daisy. His dark thoughts about sniping Delgado from a distance of 1500 yards were sidelined as a junior agent knocked once on his glass door then poked his head in.

"John Stanton is here to see you," he said. Booth wracked his brain before he remembered that Stanton was the name of Roberto Martinez's boss who filed the missing persons report.

"Thanks," Booth said, closing out the programs on his computer and gathering up Roberto's missing persons file. "Show him to the conference room. I'll be there in a moment. Make sure he has coffee or whatever," he said. The junior agent scurried off and Booth moved to Sweets' office and gathered the bewildered psychologist to be his backup. He wanted to reassure him that nothing had changed now that Booth had seen the bruises, but Booth still expected Sweets to be the best profiler in the Bureau. He gave Sweets the file and brought him up to speed just as they reached the conference room.

Standing awkwardly on the other side of the table was a large man with a visitor's badge pinned on the collar of his flannel shirt. Mr. John Stanton's looks fit the profession he had chosen. From the green trucker hat clutched in his big hands to his dusty boots, the man was a farmer, and proud of it. He had a look about him that told Booth that he probably spent some time in the military after high school many years ago and it was a source of pride to him to have served his country as a soldier. That pride in his country was probably one of the reasons why he was at the FBI headquarters in DC at 9:00 AM. Booth nodded at Mr. Stanton and held out his hand for him to shake.

"I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth," he introduced himself, "This is Dr. Lance Sweets."

"Pleased to meet ya—well, under the circumstances," he said, pumping Booth's hand vigorously. His hand was callused with hard work. "My name is John D. Stanton. The D stands for Dee, D-E-E. It was my mother's maiden name. People get it confused all the time."

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Stanton," Booth said, gesturing to the seat across the table from him, "Will you sit?"

"I'm sure you want to get right down to business," Stanton said as he sat.

"Yes, sir," Booth agreed. "We have your incomplete report here," he said, tapping the report on the table. "Would you care to fill in the details?"

"It's very sad business that Roberto died," he said, shaking his head sadly. He scratched his thinning hair with one hand as he continued, "He was my best worker. You know all that rainy weather we had last year? Well, you need a dry stretch for haying and we were racing against the next bout of thunderstorms. Roberto pitched in, and he was so helpful that he was the only one I asked to say on during the year. I didn't even mind that he and his girlfriend would sneak around on my place to get a little privacy, you know what I mean?"

"His girlfriend, would that be Maria Lopez?" Sweets asked, handing over Maria's picture. Stanton nodded grimly.

"Yep, that's her," he confirmed. He didn't smile, but the crinkling around his eyes showed Booth that he had been fond of the couple, even though she was at most an acquaintance to him. "She was a cute little thing, but she didn't scare the animals, even when she came around as a gray wolf."

"You recognized her in her other form?" Sweets asked. Both of the shifters in the room knew that the man sitting across from them was only human. Although he smelled like the animals he had taken care of that morning, he didn't have the extra depth to his smell that allowed shifters to recognize each other. It was very rare to have a human recognize a shifter in another form without being a family member or a close friend.

"Listen, I know what you're thinking, but let me tell you something," he said, shifting in his seat to lean over the table at them, pointing his entire hand at them to make his point, "Some people talk trash about shifters, but my land has been right next to Rock Creek Park since my granddaddy's time. I've seen some pretty strange behaviors from animals that come on my land, and it becomes easy to see who is who. Even though that girl was in another form, the she-wolf had the same little habits as she had when she was in human form. Poor little thing, she must be devastated that Roberto is dead."

Stanton sat back in his chair, putting his hands flat on the table. Sweets steepled his fingers in the way only shrinks and evil villains in B movies did. Booth pressed his lips together in a straight line before telling John Stanton that Maria had been found dead in Rock Creek Park near Roberto.

"Damn," Stanton said without heat, slumping a little. "They seemed like good kids. Not like that other wolf that came skulking around after Maria every once in a while."

"Do you know who it was?" Booth asked, sensing a lead. He pulled out the picture of Luis in his wolf form, "Was it this wolf?"

Stanton took one look at the picture and shook his head. "Nah, I would have remembered a wolf like that. This must be Maria's family in the picture. He has the same sock that she had." He pointed to the white forepaw, tapping it thoughtfully. "I might've seen him around once or twice, but not as often as I saw this slimy-looking wolf. He was always watching Roberto's girl. Roberto even talked to me about that wolf once, about a week before he disappeared. Said that he was bothering Maria and asked if it was all right if she stayed the night with him. The wolf hung around during the night, but it was gone in the morning, and I haven't seen that wolf since. When Roberto disappeared about a week later, I didn't think it had anything to do with the wolf, so I didn't even mention it to the police when they told me that Roberto was living in the country illegally and he probably moved on."

"Would you be able to describe the wolf you saw to a sketch artist?" Booth asked.

"I might could draw him for you myself. I'm not bad with pen and paper," Stanton offered. Booth decided to call in a sketch artist, but also give Stanton the supplies he needed and compare the two drawings. Booth and Sweets watched from outside the room and talked between themselves as Stanton described the wolf that was stalking Maria.

"He feels like a stand up guy," Booth said. "My gut's saying that he's clean."

"Most likely he has a shapeshifter in his family tree, which is perhaps the reason why his family kept their land near Rock Creek Park even though the land probably doesn't make enough to sustain a family in this economy," Sweets observed. The shapeshifter virus was unique in that once a person was infected with the virus, it inserted animal and viral DNA into the human genome in every cell in the body including gametes, becoming hereditary in the process. John Dee Stanton might be a carrier, having only one recessive copy of the shapeshifter gene, rather than two genes that would allow him to shift.

"He and his brother also rent farm equipment. That plus whatever Stanton makes on his land might be enough to keep them going. It doesn't have to be about shapeshifters," Booth commented. He agreed with the psychologist, but was playing devil's advocate for a moment so that Sweets could show his stuff.

"His word choice shows familiarity with shapeshifters beyond what he sees working on his farm. He always used personal pronouns "he" and "she" when talking about shapeshifters in their animal forms. And he totally related the human forms of the shapeshifters to the wolves by calling Maria by her name whether he was talking about her wolf or her human form. I'd bet my next paycheck that he has a shapeshifter in his family," Sweets explained excitedly. "There are other indicators, but those are the most telling."

Booth nodded, glad to see that Sweets had lost the anguish in his eyes that he and Brennan saw that morning. He wasn't the subdued wolf that had greeted them in the lab, but a confident FBI psychologist. The sketch artist held up his sketchpad and motioned to Booth and Sweets through the glass. They went back in to look at the new suspect on their list.

"Well, it isn't my best work, but I think you'll get the picture," Stanton said, tearing out the page and giving it to Booth. The sketch artist looked miffed because a civilian had drawn his own sketch, but handed the sketch that he had done over to Booth as well. Both pictures showed a Northern gray wolf that weighed about 160-180 pounds. The wolf was obviously still in his winter coat, and he had typical coloring, a mix of white and gray with some dark gray along his spine and gray tuffs of fur at his cheeks.

Both sketches had similar outlines, and the coloring was the same and would probably work the same in a facial recognition database, but Booth was impressed with the way that Stanton had captured the expression on the wolf's face. He had drawn him crouching on a rock, looking down at something that wasn't in the picture. He looked sly and watchful, but he also excluded an air of smug submissiveness, as if he knew that the person that he was taking orders from was powerful enough to protect him no matter what he did. Booth knew people like that and he had hated every one of them.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Stanton," Booth said, shaking the man's hand again. "Please call me if you remember anything else that could be useful to the investigation."

"I surely will," he promised. "Take care, now."

An agent escorted the big man out as Booth took the picture to one of the agents in the major crimes bullpen. "Run this for me, would you?" he said, handing the sketch artist's drawing to him. "Tell me if anything pops up." He kept Stanton's drawing, putting it in the file with a notation for his own use.

"Booth," he heard across the bustle of the FBI building. His ears were tuned to that particular voice, and he immediately turned to see his partner.

"Hey, Bones," he greeted, trying to dampen down his enthusiasm at seeing her again before lunch. She looked excited, her beautiful blue-green eyes sparkling with energy. As she walked toward him, her scent enveloped him and he relaxed a little, just knowing that she was near. She was carrying one of those folders that held x-rays. "What are you doing here?"

"I discovered who bit Maria immediately before her death," she said, walking with him to his office. She pulled out the x-rays and held them up against the window, letting the light show the radius and ulna on the films. She pointed out the bite marks for Booth. "Do you see?" she asked, her excitement contagious. Booth smiled, but shook his head.

"See what, Bones?" he said, shrugging his shoulders. "You know I can't read x-rays."

"Oh," she said, slightly deflated. She regained her momentum and pointed again, "Well, these have a unique form that looked familiar, so I compared them to the casts of Maria's teeth in the SSDU."

"Wait, wait, wait," Booth said, staring in shock and confusion at Brennan. "Are you saying that she bit herself?"

"Of course not," she said, wrinkling her nose adorably. "How could she bite her human arm with the jaws of a wolf?"

"Well, when you put it that way…" he grumbled. Sometimes she made him feel like he was stupid, even though he knew that he wasn't stupid and that she wasn't trying to make him feel that way. She ignored his inner struggle and went on.

"The teeth are slanted at a slightly abnormal angle. Maria's casts show the same angle to her bite. So I had Angela stop running the mold of the bite marks though the entire database and simply try to find a match among the Lopez family because the deformation is likely hereditary. Would you like to know whose dental imprints matched the marks on the forearm?" she asked.

"Whose, Bones?" he asked, loving the way that she was so animated.

"Luis Lopez," she said proudly. She shared a meaningful glance with her partner. "This means he didn't kill her, Booth, but he was there at or near her death."

Booth shook his head sadly and said, "Things aren't looking very good for Luis."

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><p>AN: Reviews are amazing. I'd love to hear from you, though!


	9. Shifting Sands

A/N: OK, so I broke a promise to myself not to read any books that deal with shapeshifters before I finished writing this. Sorry, but it was totally worth it. I will try to keep it from influencing my writing. Now, onto more case work.

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><p><strong>Chapter 9: Shifting Sands<strong>

Booth and Brennan stood looking at each other with sadness for a few moments. Both of the partners had seen siblings killing each other before while solving cases. It never got easier to deal with. Sweets interrupted their melancholy moment of understanding when he stuck his head in the door.

"Hey, Dr. Brennan," he greeted before turning to Booth and asking, "May I have a copy of the sketch drawn by Mr. Stanton for my profile?"

"Sure, Sweets," Booth grunted, pulling the page out. "Make a copy and give me the original."

"It's remarkable how you can find out so much about a person by their handwriting, and even more by the way they draw," he said blithely, gathering up the drawing of the unidentified wolf. He looked at it for a moment, then continued his thought. "You, for example, Agent Booth, tend to print in all capital letters, probably due to your time in the military. But the way you form the letters in your cursive has a distinct quality that shows that you have a great deal of control over yourself as well as a highly developed feminine side…"

"Sweets…" Booth growled in irritation.

"Oh," Sweets said, finally getting the message that he had interrupted something, "Well, I have to be going."

On his way out, he brushed passed the swarthy Agent Carlos Suarez, who didn't acknowledge him at all. Carlos held the door open and studied the partners inside. His eyes tracked up and down Brennan's form as he entered Booth's office.

"Hey _Mamacita_," he said to Brennan, his eyes stuck somewhere below her face. She looked at him in confusion and shifted her weight restlessly at the implications of his words. She understood his intent, but not the reason he would be so unprofessional in his workplace. Booth moved in front of his partner possessively, keeping the agent's eyes away from his partner.

"Agent Suarez, what do you need?" Booth asked hurriedly with barely concealed menace, trying to direct the agent's roving eyes completely to him. Carlos reluctantly pulled his hungry gaze away from Brennan and looked at Booth with distaste. Brennan watched their back-and-forth curiously, comparing it to territorial rituals in certain tribes of the Serengeti. When it was placed into that context, their behavior was fascinating to observe.

"Your _lobo_ is here. We found him with some Mara Muerte _espumas_ in Little Salvador," he told Booth with his perpetual smirk.

"You found Luis Lopez?" Brennan asked after coming to the conclusion that the wolf he was referring to meant Luis.

"He's in the interrogation room right now," he said aggressively to Booth, ignoring Brennan completely in his confrontation with Booth. "I want to be there when you question him."

"Fine," Booth said reluctantly. He turned to his partner, "You want to observe, Bones?"

"Of course," she said, gathering her folder full of x-rays and handing the incriminating evidence to Booth. Agent Suarez waited impatiently, trying to catch glances of the x-rays without being obvious.

They walked down to the interrogation room, Booth and Brennan striding ahead and Agent Suarez trying not to look like he's trailing behind like a grumpy kid after his parents. Brennan walked into the observation room with Booth while Agent Suarez marched directly into the interrogation room. Booth grabbed an earpiece so he could hear Brennan's observations, then followed Suarez to question their suspect.

"Luis Lopez," Agent Suarez drawled, watching the very skinny, sick-looking young shifter across the table. He read from the file, citing his criminal record. "Possession of narcotics and an illegal firearm, breaking and entering, and a whole bunch of minor charges," he said, tapping the file on the table and leaning over to look at his face. Booth slapped down the folder on the table. The x-rays slid out along the table, giving Luis an almost perfect view of his sister's forearm, but he refused to look at the pictures or acknowledge the agents.

Luis sat sullenly, looking down at his handcuffs and ignoring both agents. Booth mentally compared this young man to his mug shot and was shocked, although he didn't show it on his face. He looked like a chronically ill old man. Booth estimated that he was down to 90 pounds His muscle was stringy and looked weak, and his skin loose from losing weight too fast. His face was drawn and tight, and his skin had a grayish tinge. Luis also had a bruise across his cheek and a scratch that crossed his eyebrow, stopping just a hair away from his eyelid. Booth remembered the hoodie that Luis was wearing when he and Bones chased him. It was scuffed and torn at the seam near the collar of the hood. He smelled like too much sweat and dirt, with a bitter hint of something Booth couldn't identify right away.

"Booth, he has all the signs of a chronic anabolic steroids user," Brennan informed him. As soon as she said something about steroids, Booth placed the bitter smell. In shifters, steroid use caused a hormonal imbalance that made it easier to shift. It was often used as the cheaper way to change forms easily for shapeshifters without a way to obtain the expensive injections of shifting factor. But it took a huge toll on the body, racing the shifter's metabolism to dangerous levels of calorie consumption after multiple shifts. It was also illegal, and if Luis proved to be a tough nut to crack, then they could use it for leverage.

"Hey, _hombre_," Carlos said, tapping on the table right in front of Luis's gaze. Luis didn't respond except by a contemptuous flick of his eyes. "You're being held on suspicion of murder. That's no B&E rap, man. Just tell us what we need to know so we can make this go away."

Luis was silent, and the gang task force agent leaned over the table to get in his face. His rumpled dress shirt and loosened tie made the olive-skinned agent look like he had been working for days rather than the few hours he had been at work so far. He stroked a hand down his tie to keep it in place and stayed almost nose-to-nose with Luis.

"Your sister's dead, _lobo_. And we can charge you with accessory to her murder if you don't help us, man," Agent Suarez said harshly, trying to break through to him. He backed away and began to walk around the back of Luis's chair. Luis refused to move his head to follow the agent's progress. Suarez continued, "You were seen arguing with Maria before she died. The witness says that you shouted 'If you see him again, I'll kill you.' And now your sister is dead, _hombre_. And her boyfriend is dead, too. How do you think that looks for you? Hmm?" Suarez asked accusingly, walking back around to glare in the young shifter's face.

Luis made a contemptuous face, looking like he wanted to spit. The young shifter's cheek muscle quivered, an involuntary response to the steroids. He reached up to smooth the tick away, but came up short against his restraints and his face hardened at the embarrassment and humiliation.

Carlos was good at interrogation, and knew that he had taken a step forward and two steps back. Agent Suarez stepped back from the table and leaned against the wall, knowing that there was a rhythm to interrogation, and his time would come again, but now Booth could take a shot at it.

Booth sat across the table from Luis and separated the x-rays of the arm from the rest. He held them up to the light as he had seen his partner do, but although he saw the outline of the bones of the forearm, he knew that he didn't see even half of what Bones saw. He acted the part, however, then turned it around to show the young shifter in front of him. "See this, Luis?" he asked the silent suspect in front of him, "Do you know what this is?"

When Luis didn't respond, Booth continued, "This is an x-ray of your sister's arm." Booth saw that his statement got Luis's attention. He tried to maintain his calm façade, but he flinched at the mention of his sister and the evidence of her death right in front of him. Booth flicked the edge of the film with the forefinger of his opposite hand, making his point.

"This is where Maria was pulled down like prey," Booth said in a deceptively even voice. Just thinking about what the young woman had gone through made his blood boil.

Brennan's voice came through his earpiece. "She wasn't pulled down when those bite marks were made. The most likely scenario is that she fell because she was weak and uncoordinated and her brother grabbed her arm in his jaws and dragged her for several feet."

Booth kept his story going, adding his partner's information smoothly into the picture he was painting for Luis. "She fell down, struggling to run from those who were chasing her, and you grabbed her arm in your jaw and pulled Maria like a dead deer. She tried to get away from you, but you held her, dragging her across the forest floor."

Every time Booth said Maria's name, Luis flinched visibly and became angrier and angrier. His fists clenched and unclenched and his teeth strained from the pressure of Luis's gritted jaw. Booth knew that he was going to break soon. For all his toughness, Booth could tell that he loved his sister very much. Sure enough, he broke at Booth's words.

"That's not what happened!" he yelled, raising his fists. He rattled the chain as he pulled to the end of his restraints, his face a mask of fury. "I would never hurt Maria like that. Never! I was trying to protect her from that werewolf! He was chasing her and I had to protect her!"

His cheeks started twitching uncontrollably as his emotions spiked intensely. A bitter, acrid scent filled the room, even over Luis's strong, unwashed body odor. Booth leaned over the table in alarm, recognizing the signs of an impending shift. Luis jerked backwards away from the perceived danger posed by Booth, but began choking on his own breath, trying to set the record straight.

"Ask…ask that werewolf that calls himself…" Luis tried to control his breathing long enough to get his words out, "…that calls himself _El Jefe_." He stopped the struggle to speak and simply concentrated on breathing. His muscles were convulsing violently.

"Booth, he's about to shift!" Brennan shouted through the earpiece, confirming Booth's thought. Booth gestured towards the mirrored glass and heard her leave the room. Booth knew that he was a strong, commanding alpha, but he wasn't trying to prevent someone like Sweets or Daisy from shifting. To Luis, Booth was an unknown cop who couldn't be trusted, not an Alpha worth giving up control of the shifting process. But Brennan was also an alpha shapeshifter, just as impressive and authoritative as Booth was. Together they might tip the delicate balance and keep Luis in his human form.

"What happened to your sister, _lobo_?" Agent Suarez interjected over Booth's shoulder, not recognizing the danger or having an earpiece to hear Brennan's warning.

"It's not the time, Suarez," Booth said curtly.

"You're pushing it, Booth…" Carlos began threateningly.

"Really not the time," Booth said sternly. Brennan burst into the room, pushing the protesting agent out of the way as she joined Booth across from Luis.

"You shouldn't shift forms, Luis," Brennan said matter-of-factly, raising her hand palm up to make her point, "With your malnourished state, you will die of starvation before you ever reach your animal form."

"Suarez, get something with sugar, nothing caffeinated," Booth ordered. "Then call an ambulance."

"I'm not your damn gofer, Booth," Suarez yelled angrily.

"You want our suspect to die right here in the FBI's interrogation room? Just do it!" Booth said firmly. Carlos responded immediately to his tone and pulled out his cell phone to call for help, glaring at Booth the whole time. Still talking on the phone, he turned and left to get something from the vending machines, marching out the door in angry strides. Booth and Brennan ignored the door slam, but Luis jumped off his chair, gasping for breath at the sound as he pulled against his restraints. Booth and Brennan stood up with him, moving swiftly, but without any more jerky movements that would startle him further.

"Listen, Luis," Booth said sternly but calmly, keeping Luis's attention on him rather than on the emotions that were causing an overload of hormones to flood his system. "You need to control your breathing."

"The most efficient manner is to breathe in through the nose and then out through the mouth," Brennan informed him. Luis looked into her green-blue eyes and saw something he could hold on to in the flood of his emotions. She began to breathe in a pattern and the young shifter began to follow her. His muscles were spasming violently, jerking his limbs against his will. Neither Booth nor Brennan had ever seen such a violent transition, but seeing as neither belonged to a pack, they didn't have much experience with young shapeshifters and the different types of shifts.

"How long have you been using anabolic steroids?" Brennan asked. Luis's eyes darted between the partners, hesitant to admit to the illegal drug even in a crisis. "If you've been using anabolic steroids more than three months, we need to seek help from your Alpha as well as medical professionals."

"I've never juiced," Luis lied blatantly, gritting his teeth through the pain. Booth rolled his eyes at the kid's stupidity and turned on the intimidation.

"Tell me," he commanded. Luis jerked slightly at the authority in his voice.

"About a month," he admitted. Booth turned to Brennan, asking her silently what that meant to the situation at hand.

"How many times have you shifted in the past month?" she asked Luis.

"Twice," he said between gritted teeth, still keeping his gaze locked on Brennan. Although Brennan looked calm, the look in her eyes and the slight twitch of her eyebrows told Booth that the situation was dire. Luis caught the look and interpreted it correctly. "I don't want to die," he confessed with panic in his eyes.

"You won't die, Luis," Booth said reassuringly. Brennan gave Booth an incredulous look.

"You might die," she corrected. "Especially if you decide to ignore what we recommend."

"Bones!" Booth whispered furiously, "If you're trying to calm him down, it's not working."

"It's ok," Luis panted. "She's straight with me. I get it."

"Slow your breathing and curb your emotions," Brennan said.

"Don't let me die," he gasped to Brennan.

"I can't promise that," she said honestly. Booth kicked her foot and she blinked, realizing that she came across too bluntly so she continued, "But you can be assured that I will do everything in my power to keep you alive."

"I don't want to die," he repeated. Booth took the young shifter's boney, twitching hands and laid them forcefully on the table. He squeezed them a bit too harshly to be completely reassuring, but it got his attention just like Booth wanted, as well as told Luis that Booth had the strength of an alpha and the will to use it.

"Listen, Luis. My partner and I aren't going to let you die. Calm. Down," Booth said firmly. Luis' eyes were still locked on Brennan's, but Booth's words had their effect. His face was strained, but he kept his breathing in sync with Brennan's and began to really believe the two alphas. Booth could see the change in his face.

Luis didn't break eye contact with Brennan as the door opened and Sweets came in with a caffeine-free Coke. Booth was surprised to see the psychologist, but it was better than the antagonistic Agent Suarez. Now that Booth thought of it, Sweets was the logical choice. Now everyone in the room was a shapeshifter, immune to the virus that was running rampant through Luis's system as a precursor to the actual shift.

Sweets popped the tab on the drink and handed it to Booth. Booth slid it in front of Luis, but he didn't make a move toward it until Brennan placed it in his hand and encouraged him to drink. His first sip spilled down his chin and hand, leaking under the handcuffs as he drank, almost choking as he struggled to get his muscles to obey his command.

"The EMTs are on their way," Sweets said. "They have been informed of the situation and should be here in a few minutes. He can be in an isolation chamber in thirty minutes. The FBI has quarantined this room as a precaution against non-shifter personnel contracting the shifter virus."

"They'll have the proper antiviral treatments?" Brennan asked, not looking away from the struggling shifter in front of her.

"I'm sure they will," Sweets said, shrugging his shoulders awkwardly.

"You part of their pack?" Luis asked Sweets hoarsely. Sweets looked startled, not realizing that the struggling shifter was able to talk during what looked like a very painful shift. He looked a tiny bit better for the sugar in his drink, but his muscles were still twitching against his will and his breathing was erratic. He chanced looking away from Brennan to glance at Sweets. Most of the panic was gone from Luis's face and his voice, but his muscles were shaking more violently.

"No, they're not part of any pack," Sweets answered, his eyebrows drawn high into his hair. Booth and Brennan shared a look between themselves as Luis and Sweets talked. The shaking was extremely violent for a simple shift, even with the sugar in his system cushioning the calorie consumption of his racing metabolism. The shifter virus hiding in every cell of his body was replicating at a high rate. If the medics didn't inject Luis with the antivirals, he would shift despite their best efforts and likely die in the process.

"Why?" Luis said in surprise.

"It's none of your business," Booth said. Brennan looked at Booth with mild reproach at being curt with the struggling shifter.

"We have disagreements with the local packs," Brennan said more politically. Sweets was more blunt.

"Oh, they're not wolves," he said blithely, ignoring Booth's annoyed look at his geyser of information. "And they weren't born to it, either. Plus, they're alphas, so you can see why they aren't part of a local pack."

"Sweets!" Booth growled under his breath.

"While all of that is true," Brennan said, "Those aren't the only reasons that we haven't joined a pack in DC."

"And those reasons are none of your business," Booth repeated.

"You haven't started your own pack?" Luis said, his voice very rough, but steadier than it had been. For all of Booth and Brennan's annoyance at the psychologist, his presence was what Luis needed to get his mind off of emotionally charged topics. Sweets' eyes gleamed in speculation at Luis's question and he eagerly jumped into his explanation.

"Because of the nature of their creation, neither Dr. Brennan nor Agent Booth values the pack as a natural born shapeshifter does. Their thinking lies more with the mainstream humans rather than the bulk of shifters. And my observations show that they have a unique interdependence that is very similar in function to a mated pair…"

"Sweets!" Booth said very sharply. The young psychologist snapped out of his analysis at Booth's authoritative tone, realizing he had said too much about a sensitive topic in front of the principle players.

"That's ridiculous," Brennan said, her nose wrinkling upwards. "Booth and I are not a mated pair."

"I never said you were," Sweets grumbled under his breath.

"I thought you were a couple," Luis observed. There was a knock on the door and Luis dropped his Coke with a curse in Spanish as it splashed back on him. A pair of paramedics came in without waiting for confirmation, hoisting a stretcher with impressive-looking straps designed to restrain a convulsing shapeshifter. They moved around the table toward the obviously distressed shifter and checked his dog tags with his shifter ID, imputing the information in a handheld device.

"Are any of you his Alphas?" the blond paramedic asked Booth, Brennan and Sweets. They all shook their heads "no." His partner knelt down in front of Luis and pulled out a small kit out of his red bag that looked similar to a blood sugar test. Luis didn't flinch when the paramedic pricked his finger, drawing blood for the blood tests. Booth and Brennan shared worried glances with Sweets, knowing that if Luis couldn't feel his extremities anymore, he was too far into a shift to pull back.

"We need to get him into the isolation chamber immediately," the paramedic said. His words were urgent, but his manner was not. He packed away his equipment slowly and stood up. "We can't have him shifting here."

"Luis shouldn't shift," Brennan said, straightening her back in indignation. "There is a very high chance that he will die if he continues his shift."

"The hormones in his system will likely give him no choice, ma'am," he said, although his tone was anything but polite. He completely ignored Luis as if he weren't a living, breathing person and kept talking with Brennan. "And since none of you are his Alpha, there's really nothing we can do."

"You haven't even given him antiviral medication!" she protested. The blond paramedic shrugged disinterestedly.

"That has to be prescribed by a doctor," he said with bored diffidence. He turned to Booth, seeing him as the most likely of the group to be an agent in charge. "Do you have the key to his cuffs?"

"But this is an emergency," Brennan said firmly. Booth put his hand on her arm, knowing that even though her tone or face didn't show it, she was upset.

"I'm sure that once he goes into the ER, a doctor will prescribe it right away," the blond paramedic soothed. Booth unlocked the restraints and the paramedics wrestled Luis onto the stretcher, fastening down his limbs.

"Hey, you better listen to her, man!" Luis said angrily, his voice weak and his breathing choppy. "She's kept me from shifting so far."

"You said you weren't alphas," the paramedic complained, looking at them suspiciously.

"We said that we weren't _his_ Alphas. That doesn't mean we aren't alphas in our own right," Brennan said logically.

"You can keep informed of his condition at the hospital," the other paramedic said, wheeling Luis out.

"Don't leave me!" Luis shouted to Brennan, his words slurred because his tongue and lips were fighting his body's command. "You promised you wouldn't let me die."

"I promised that I would do everything in my power to keep you alive, and I will keep my promise," Brennan told him seriously. She turned to the paramedics and told them in her precise way, "I will be riding in the ambulance with Luis Lopez in place of his Alpha."

"Sorry, no can do," the paramedic said brusquely, pushing them out of the way as they moved out the door. Brennan followed them out of the room with Booth and Sweets close behind. The hallways were deserted and Booth wondered who had led the paramedics to the interrogation room and why they weren't there to lead them back. He had to put a little spring in his step because Brennan was a woman on a mission, and she quickly moved along with the stretcher, talking in that lecturing tone as she went.

"Your presence has had a detrimental effect on his ability to compartmentalize his emotions and as a result, he is more likely to shift without an alpha with him. If you want to be responsible for a young shapeshifter who has been using steroids for about one month and be responsible for his wellbeing when he is a suspect in FBI custody, all without an alpha, then you may go without me," she argued calmly. The paramedics looked slightly less confident in their abilities when the situation was laid out in those terms. She continued, offering an alternative. "However, you would be wise to take me along with you to keep Luis passive and calm, as I am an alpha and have had some success so far keeping Luis from going into the shift."

"Ma'am, it's against regulations," the blond paramedic protested weakly.

"You have to weigh the risks against the benefits," she said logically. "If you lose an FBI suspect without trying everything you can, then you might be held responsible for the loss and possible obstruction of justice."

Booth lightly elbowed Sweets as he opened his mouth. Booth knew that the know-it-all kid was going to tell them that they couldn't be charged for obstruction of justice if a suspect died in their care and it would ruin the effect of Brennan's argument. Sweets "oofed" as the breath left his lungs, but got the point and stayed silent, shooting Booth sad, puppy-dog looks and rubbing his ribs. Booth decided to enter the conversation and back up his partner.

"A double murderer might get away if you decide not to listen to my partner's information and Luis dies," he added. He shook his head in a show of sympathy and continued, "That would be tough on your conscience. Three deaths, instead of one."

"Well…" the paramedic said, unsure of himself as they pushed Luis into the service elevator. Brennan and Booth squeezed in with them, but Sweets was left standing outside, pouting.

"He is a prisoner that needs supervision. He's a proven flight risk," Booth said to give them something else to think about as the elevator doors closed. "Dr. Brennan contracts to the FBI and is a valuable resource."

The paramedics spoke back and forth during the elevator ride down. Booth stood next to Brennan, but they didn't speak, just waited together in silence. "I suppose it would be fine if she represented the FBI," the paramedic relented. "Since he is a flight risk."

"Good," Brennan said. She moved to where Luis could see her without straining his eyes. "I will accompany you to the hospital, and I will do what I can to keep you from shifting, but you have to make the effort as well."

"I will," he promised, getting lost in her eyes. Booth shifted uncomfortably, trying to keep his emotions in check. He knew that the kid was just lost and scared, but the way he looked at Brennan made Booth's hackles rise. There was a good dose of hero worship, but there was also pure male appreciation of a very beautiful female form. The way Brennan attended to him probably made Luis think he had a chance, and it made Booth want to do something about it. Booth also knew that if he _did_ do anything about it, Brennan would glare at him and call him an overbearing alpha-male or just punch him in the jaw, depending on what, exactly, he had done. Luis was no threat to him or his partner. Booth had to keep telling himself that to keep himself calm.

They wheeled Luis to the ambulance parked in the emergency zone and loaded him inside. Brennan hopped in the back with the stretcher as they prepared to leave. Booth stepped closer to her, touching her ankle lightly to get her attention.

"I'll meet you at the hospital," he said. Brennan nodded as Booth stepped back for them to close the door. He kept eye contact with his partner as long as he could before watching the ambulance drive away. When it was out of sight, he turned to go back to his office, but stopped when his phone rang.

"Booth," he answered, standing in the bright sunshine with one hand propped on his hip.

"Hey, Booth," Cam said on the other end. Booth heard a note of worry in her voice and was immediately on his guard.

"What's up, Cam?" he asked.

"Angela has matched the bullets to the gun," Cam told him. "We're sending the info to your computer."

"We don't have a weapon, Cam," Booth stated, "How did she match it?"

"The bullet was registered in the Integrated Ballistics Identification System," Cam explained, "Angela matched it in the database. It was a perfect match."

"Was it used in another crime?" he said as he made his way back to his office to retrieve the data.

"No, Booth," she said nervously. "You'll see when you open the email."

He could hear Hodgins in the background, yelling, "It's a conspiracy, Booth!"

"All I'm saying is be careful, big guy," Cam said over Hodgins's outburst. "This could be explosive."

"Okay, Cam," he said as he moved though the bullpen. He hung up as he moved through the Hoover. The organized chaos hummed behind his glass door as he moved though the office to the computer. The email was waiting in the inbox and he clicked it open. It opened before his eyes and as he read through it, his eyes widened and he let out a soft curse. His mouth turned downward in a vicious frown and his whole face was consumed with anger. There were several types of criminals that he hated intensely: people that abused children, wife-beaters…

…and dirty cops.

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><p>AN: Thank you to each and every one of you who take the time to review. I love every review I've gotten, especially those that ask about my grandfather. Even though I'd like to reply personally to each one of you, if you review anonymously or have disabled the private messaging and I can't reply, I want to thank you as well. You're all amazing and keep me writing!


	10. Confrontations

A/N: Thank you so much for your patience. And a very special thank you to Fear Herself for keeping the number of reviews on the last chapter from being a big ol' goose egg. Thanks!

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><p><strong>Chapter 10: Confrontations<strong>

Booth despised dirty cops. They had sworn to uphold the law, only to turn their backs if it had become an inconvenience. They were the worst kind of scum and he keenly felt that he had let one in on his investigation. Especially since a dirty cop was a potential threat to his partner. Crooked FBI agents had caused trouble for Brennan before, with attempts on her life from two separate agents involved before. He was determined that there wasn't going to be a third.

He finally found Agent Suarez in the break room on the third floor, talking with some of the agents there. Booth wanted to grab him by the collar and beat the truth out of him, but decided that it would be too messy that way. But it didn't stop him from cornering Suarez at the table and leaning over him menacingly as he drank nasty FBI coffee out of a Capitals mug. He startled the gang task force agent and Suarez jumped.

"Jeez, Booth," he said as he slopped his coffee onto the table. He half-heartedly tried to sop up the spill with the corner of a newspaper, but left it as Booth leaned closer, invading his personal space with growing tension.

"I need to speak with you. Privately," he said with quiet anger, enunciating each word with care. The agents who had been standing around, killing time suddenly found out that they needed to get back to work as they saw Booth's intensity.

"Fine," Suarez replied, standing up as he re-adjusted his rumpled shirt and tie. "My office."

Carlos led the way, trying to make it look like he had called the meeting, rather than being forced into it. The FBI agents who had been in the break room watched in a way they thought was discrete and gossiped about what was happening. In a small corner of his mind, Booth hoped that the guys watching them were better at stakeouts than they were on gathering information about office politics. Their attempts at casual were depressingly obvious. But he spared them only a fraction of a thought as he focused on the traitor in front of him.

Booth glowered at Suarez the entire way to Suarez's office, staring holes into the agent's back. Suarez wasn't as oblivious as he made himself look. He knew Booth was as mad as a wet hen, but not the reason. Agent Suarez's office was smaller than Booth's and didn't have any windows, but it was a very good space for that part of the building. Suarez closed the door and made his way behind his desk, taking comfort in the fact that he was on his home turf.

"What's this about, Booth?" he demanded once he had settled himself standing behind his desk with his fingertips resting on the cluttered surface. Booth slammed down the papers he had taken time to print from the information the lab had sent. He stood with his hands on his hips, deliberately pushing aside his jacket to show his holstered weapon. Suarez browsed through the papers casually, pushing them aside when they didn't immediately offer what he wanted to know. "What is all this?" he asked.

"That's the ballistics report on the bullets in my two murder victims," Booth said with deceptive calmness.

"What's it have to do with me?" Suarez asked belligerently, sticking his chin out in contempt. Booth's dark eyes were dense with violence and his wide hands twitched unnervingly. Despite the expansive, heavy desk in between the two agents, Suarez was afraid that Booth would pounce on him and rip him apart with his bare hands, not even using his famed skills as a marksman. The gang task force agent wondered if this had anything to do with the argument during the interrogation. Before then, Booth was demanding, but civil. After, he turned into a dangerous predator without the veneer of civilization.

"Those bullets were fired from a gun registered to you," Booth stated.

"That's a lie!" Suarez exclaimed once he processed the outrageous statement.

"The report's in front of you," Booth said, gesturing to the papers on the desk. Suarez dove back into the papers, trying his best to read the complex data. His eyes caught on the make of the gun, a standard issue Glock, and scanned down to look for his name. He found it and stared in disbelief.

"Is this some kind of joke?" he asked, looking at his name. It was a damning piece of evidence. Carlos Suarez automatically checked his weapon to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

"Take your hand away from your holster, Suarez," Booth ordered menacingly, his hand going towards his own weapon.

"Cool it, Booth," Suarez said, moving his hand upwards non-threateningly, showing his empty palms. "Take my gun out of my holster. That is the one registered to me."

Booth did as he suggested, retrieving the weapon. He checked the serial number etched in the metal, but it didn't tell him anything other than the fact the Glock had a different serial number than the one in the IBIS database. It was well taken care of and cleaned, like a weapon should be, and when Booth unloaded it and checked for debris, it didn't show any signs of having been fired recently.

"You may not like me, Booth," Suarez said as Booth inspected the gun. "But I'm a good agent and I would never murder like that. I mean, what's my motive? I didn't even know your victims."

"People do crazy things out of hate," Booth responded, placing the clip and the Glock on the desk out of Suarez's reach. "You hate shapeshifters as much as you hate gang members. That's motive enough for me."

"You're the one who's crazy, man!" Carlos shouted. "I don't like them, yeah, but that doesn't mean I would go on a killing spree to get rid of them!"

"You've been very interested in this case, Suarez," Booth said, his voice dangerously low, almost a growl. "You came to me about it almost before word had time to get around."

"I told you why, Booth," he protested, "We've been monitoring Rock Creek Park for Mara Muerte activity for months now. And then you come prancing in with that lady scientist of yours and all of a sudden the two bodies that should be the gang task force's jurisdiction is now part of major crimes. That's why I wanted in on the case."

"Or it could be because you killed them and now you've provoked my prime suspect into a dangerous shift and withheld evidence from me," Booth stated, tapping the ballistics report with a knuckle.

"I didn't withhold anything, damn it! I don't know what happened, but that gun isn't mine."

Booth stood across the desk from Suarez and watched the agent. His protective instincts had kicked in the moment he felt that Carlos Suarez could be a threat to Brennan and he felt an overwhelming pressure to make things right. But he also sensed that Suarez was telling the truth when he said that he didn't kill them.

"Then how come it's registered to you?" Booth asked, trying to calm himself. He was on edge—had been all day—and he was afraid that it was affecting his judgment. First from waking up with pain, then from learning about the situation with Daisy and Sweets, then Luis's fight to keep from shifting and finally this last piece of information involving Suarez, all of it was messing with his thoughts and emotions. If he wasn't careful, this fight with Suarez would catapult him into a shift. He forced himself to wait patiently for Suarez to answer.

"I don't know," Suarez said despairingly. He picked up the ballistics report again and studied the gun found in IBIS. There was his name, as clear as day. He couldn't understand it. He owned several firearms, like many of his fellow agents, and all of the ones that he used in the course of his duties were registered in the Integrated Ballistics Identification System as per FBI policy. His service weapon issued by the FBI was the one in Booth's possession, and up to that moment, he had been sure that his weapon was the one in the IBIS.

Booth crossed his arms and tried to relax his spine as Carlos surveyed the paperwork. He tried to think through it logically, pushing aside the feeling of righteous anger to focus on the facts, as he knew them. Right now the only concrete piece of evidence tying him to the murder was the fact that a gun registered to him was the murder weapon. The gang task force agent had a good reputation for getting things done, even when his methods didn't always please the higher-ups in the FBI. He was effective, and the agents who worked under him were loyal—which said something good about the agent when you considered the infighting and backstabbing that was common any organization like the FBI. He had started his career with the ATF in the nineties, and then moved to the FBI in 2000. He had risen quickly through the ranks and held a powerful position as a special agent for two years. Booth didn't think that Suarez would jeopardize the success that he had earned with luck and hard work for the murder of two civilians who were only loosely tied to a gang by Maria's dubious older brother.

Also, the manner in which they were murdered didn't fit what Booth knew of Suarez. They were killed in a way that was ritualistic, like an execution. Both Roberto Martinez and Maria Lopez were stripped naked—or possibly captured while naked, considering Maria had recently shifted before her death and her belongings were folded neatly in the backpack they had found—and their hands bound with duct tape. Then they were executed with a single shot to the back of the neck. Even though their deaths were weeks apart, they had too many similarities to assume that there were two different killers. Unless some evidence came up tying him to the victims, Booth didn't buy that Suarez was the killer.

Hodgins had estimated that Maria had died six days ago. He hoped Suarez had an alibi because he did not want another FBI agent betraying his trust. "Where were you last Friday?" Booth asked, still glowering at the gang task force agent.

"I worked until 5:30 and then I took Karen out to Ceiba for a belated birthday dinner. We've had standing reservations for over a month because we were both busy. We went out to eat, then we went to her place after that and stayed there until Sunday night."

"And she will back up your statement?" Booth asked, his anger easing somewhat at the ready answer.

"Yeah, man," he said, "Just ask her."

"Believe me, I will."

The two agents watched each other across the desk, trying to find out what the other would do. Booth grudgingly admitted to himself that he might have jumped the gun and accused Suarez without all the facts. However, there had been other law enforcement agents that had been accomplices to murder before. Just because Suarez didn't actually kill them didn't mean he wasn't involved with their deaths. He still hadn't explained how the murder weapon was registered in his name.

"So, how do you explain this?" Booth asked, his tone neutral.

"I think I know what happened," Suarez said, a glimmer of understanding dawning on his face. "Back when I was a rookie with the ATF, a collection of pistols went missing, including some of the ones assigned to agents. A couple were found in the possession of a couple of meth heads who said they picked them up in a dumpster. Those were the only two that were tracked down. Another was used in a drive by, but was never recovered. All this was back before the ATF and the FBI combined their ballistics systems into the IBIS. Maybe something was screwed up in the transfer."

"You're saying this could be a system's glitch," Booth said skeptically.

"Yeah, could be," Suarez agreed. "I wasn't on the case at the time, but I know that the ATF was working on some illegal weapons deals based here in DC when those guns were taken. It was kept quiet, but there was a major investigation of some of the guys I worked with. Evidence would disappear from storage and maybe turn up again in the hands of criminals, you know what I mean? Mostly small arms confiscated from criminals, but there were rifles and shotguns that went missing as well as a handful of weapons stored in the ATF lockers."

"I want the names on that case," Booth ordered. "Everyone who was working on it, all the people suspected, every weapon that turned up missing, anything you remember. Everything."

"You got it," Suarez said, relaxing from being moved from suspect to potential ally.

"But I don't want you in on my case," Booth said firmly. His entire manner told the gang task force agent that it was non-negotiable. "Not until we get this cleared up."

"That's fair," Suarez said grudgingly, knowing that if the situations were reversed, he wouldn't want Booth possibly messing up his investigation.

Booth felt his phone vibrate before he heard it ring. He excused himself, moving out of the office and ignoring the stares he received. He flipped open his phone and answered it professionally without looking at the caller id, "Booth."

"Luis Lopez is stable for the moment," Brennan said without preamble. "The doctor was able to give him antiviral drugs that halted the production of the shifter virus, but his condition is considered borderline. The shifting proteins are actually at critical levels, but with the antivirals, Luis was able to postpone a shift. Right now, he is heavily sedated and being fed intravenously. The doctor was under the assumption that I was his Alpha, so he gave me more information than would normally be available."

"Were you able to get any more information from him?" he asked as he made his way back to his office.

"If you are talking about information about the deaths of Maria and Roberto, then no, he was not able to tell me any more about their deaths. But I was able to gain some medical information that confirms that he was in animal form on the day that his sister died. I was not able to either confirm or deny his involvement with Roberto's death," Brennan said. Booth paused for a moment, concentrating on the sounds he was hearing on the other end of the line. It didn't sound much like a hospital. He heard a deep bass beat coming from her line, but it soon faded away, replaced with the shriek of a siren.

"Where are you?" he finally asked, "Are you still at the hospital?"

"I am in the waiting area outside the hospital," she answered. "In a moment I will call a taxi to take me back to the lab. Luis is so heavily sedated that we will not likely be able to talk to him for several days, so I'll be of more use at the lab."

"Don't call a cab," Booth said, planning to drive to get her after he told some of his people about Suarez. "I can come pick you up. I meant to meet you at the hospital, but I was side-tracked."

"There's no need to drive over here just to give me a ride, Booth," she responded. "You won't be able to talk to Luis, and the doctor is not here. You shouldn't waste gas simply to drive me to the lab."

"Nah, Bones," Booth said, thinking of ways to persuade her from getting in a car with a stranger. "I'll pick you up and we can exchange information while I take you to the lab."

"That seems a little out of your way," she said. Booth could hear that she was wavering and smiled to himself.

"It's okay, Bones. We need to confer," he said, throwing out the scientific-sounding word to make her want to agree.

"Very well," she said, disconnecting the call. Booth took some time to inform Charlie to watch Suarez and assign someone to confirm his alibi for Friday. He felt like he was back in the Cold War, with Reagan and Gorbachev and the old slogan, "Trust, but verify." His gut said that the gang task force agent didn't kill those kids, but until he knew without a doubt that Carlos wasn't involved, he would cover all his bases. With that taken care of, Booth smiled widely as he jumped into his SUV. More time with his partner was time well spent.

Brennan was waiting impatiently when Booth finally drove up. She quickly hopped in, pulling the door shut behind her. "I have apprised you of Luis's condition. What new information have you learned about the case? I assume that was what 'side-tracked' you."

"The lab identified the gun that fired the bullets that killed Roberto and Maria," Booth told her. He continued with the explanation, telling her about confronting Carlos Suarez and his decision to keep him out of the case. He shifted uncomfortably halfway through his account, his back pain flaring from his sitting position. Brennan noticed, as she always did.

"You should shift soon," Brennan said, her normally detached voice sounding worried. "I can smell the change in your scent. You were very close to beginning a shift today in the interrogation room."

"I'm fine, Bones," he responded, brushing her off. It hadn't been _that_ close. And Brennan didn't need to know about the episode with Suarez and how close to beginning a shift he had been without her.

"Speaking as to your health, we should still plan to take our leave this weekend so that we can shift," Brennan argued.

"It's not going to happen, Bones," Booth said, shaking his head. "We can't leave the case unfinished."

"We've solved cases quickly before," she said doubtfully. She was continuing their argument more for the sake of protesting than any real feeling that she was right. She and her partner shared the burden of seeing a case to its completion. Neither would compromise a case by leaving before it was entirely wrapped up.

"Just because the case is solved doesn't mean it's finished," he stated quietly. "We can't leave before then." It summed up both their feelings very well, but Brennan was still anxious. She had seen the pain that he tried to hide, and she found that it hurt her as well, as irrational as that idea was. She filed the feeling away for further examination at a later date.

At the lab Brennan and Booth split up at Brennan's office. Brennan took her lab coat off the coat rack in her office and exchanged it for her jacket, then made her way to the platform to resume looking at the bones. Booth tore himself away from his partner and made his way to Angela's office, to update her on Suarez's story and gather information. Cam met him on the way, a worried look in her eye.

"How'd it go?" she asked, her arms crossed under her breasts. Booth shook his head negatively.

"He denies all involvement," he told her.

"Of course he does, Seeley," she said. "You know how this goes."

"I believe him, Cam," he said reluctantly. "Something hinky is going on here."

"Tell me you arrested him, though," she said, expecting an affirmative. One look at his face told her differently. "You didn't arrest him?"

"I'm not going to ruin a good FBI agent without concrete proof," Booth stated decisively. "I've asked some of my people to watch him. If his story doesn't check out, or if he runs, then I'll arrest him. Not before."

"Fine," she sighed, "What do you need from us?" They walked into Angela's office, catching her with her feet up on the couch eating straight out of what Booth recognized as Brennan's private stash of pistachios. She quickly sat up and began brushing pistachio shells off her lap, most of them missing the trashcan and landing on the floor. She hid the container of pistachios behind a cushion on the couch and kicked the stray shells underneath the dust ruffle.

"Hey, Angela," Booth said. He decided that as grumpy as she looked, she could use a dose of the Booth charm. "Pregnancy agrees with you. You look better every day. You just glow…"

"Knock it off, Booth," Angela said irritably, "And if you tell Brennan that I took her pistachios, I'll stomp on you someplace very tender with my swollen, pregnant lady feet."

"Not a word," Booth promised, trying not to think of pain in any of his tender parts. Cam tried to hide a smile, but Booth saw it anyways and tried his best to ignore it to keep some sense of pride.

"Did you come here to give me compliments or do you want me to do something," Angela said. She was fed up with being pregnant, and she let everyone know it when her mood swung that way.

"Can't I do both?" Booth asked with a last ditch effort at a charm smile. It only took one look from Angela to bring him back down to reality. He quickly launched into what he came for. "I need more info on that gun. Suarez claims that it was stolen from the ATF in the mid-nineties when he was still a rookie agent with ATF, along with several other weapons. He claims that two were found and another was used in a drive-by."

"And you believed him?" Angela said incredulously. Booth smiled to himself, thinking that even though Angela was the most normal one of the bunch, she was still a squint at heart. She followed the evidence to its conclusion.

"Yes," Booth stated. Angela looked at him as if he had grown another head, but stood up, going over to the Angelatron.

"Alright," she sighed melodramatically. "I'll work through the records during that time period. The IBIS was originally an ATF database in the nineties while the FBI was using Drugfire. I suppose something could have been lost when the two systems merged. I'll see what I can find."

Angela looked at Booth when his phone beeped, informing him that he had received a message. It was from Suarez, and attached was the preliminary information about the stolen weapons. It was pitifully little information, but it was a starting place. Booth forwarded it to Angela. He also saw a message from Charlie, time stamped a few minutes before. He opened it and let out a small breath that he didn't realize he had been holding.

"Suarez's alibi checks out for Friday," he told Cam and Angela. He was proud that his gut had been proven right yet again. "He clocked out at 5:30 and the hostess at Ceiba says that he and his girlfriend arrived at 7 for their dinner reservation. Karen confirms that he was with her all night."

"That only proves that the government will do anything to cover for their instruments," Hodgins said as he came into Angela's office. He kissed his wife on the cheek lovingly before turning to face Booth and Cam. Booth rolled his eyes.

"_That_…" Booth responded, pointing at Hodgins, "…proves that the Jeffersonian will hire anything as long as it has a doctorate."

"Three doctorates!" Hodgins said cheerfully.

"What do you have for us, Hodgins?" Cam said, intervening before the playground argument could escalate.

"Results on the swab of the bite mark on Roberto's finger," he said cheerfully. He turned to Angela and gestured to her equipment. "May I?" he asked politely.

"If you break it, you're never touching me again," Angela warned blackly. Hodgins didn't let his smile dim. He gave his wife another kiss on the cheek and grabbed the remote to the Angelatron. After a little maneuvering through the system, the screen was a replica of the monitor at his station. The results zigzagged across the screen in an almost incomprehensible pattern.

"You see?" he said proudly. All three of the others stood staring blankly. Hodgins realized he was going to have to explain and pointed to a purple peak on the graph almost hidden by multiple intersecting lines. "This protein here is the enzyme amylase. It's found in saliva. There are also multiple electrolytes and antibacterial compounds in this sample, all of which are also found in saliva. But here's the fun part…" he said, switching to a different screen shot with more incomprehensible science babble. "This is the virus protein capsule from SSV1, the shapeshifter virus. Not only was there saliva in the bite wound, but it came from a shapeshifter. Now who's King of the Lab? That's right, baby. Me." He leaned over his wife's pregnant belly and whispered, "King of the Lab, baby," as he kissed the baby bump.

"As touching as this is," Booth drawled, his hands propped on his hips. "I still don't know what that means for the case."

"Maria bit Roberto on his left index finger," Brennan announced as she wandered into Angela's office, Daisy trailing behind.

"Way to steal my thunder," Hodgins complained. Brennan glanced at her colleague curiously, wondering at his phrasing. She put it out of her mind, concentrating on the case.

"How did you come to that conclusion?" Cam asked.

"The dental impressions on Roberto's index finger had the same angled slant as her lupine teeth," Brennan explained. Daisy jumped in, bouncing on her toes slightly.

"Her dental x-rays confirm that Maria was the one who left the imprint on his finger," she said eagerly. Booth could see caked makeup covering the bruises and knew it wasn't fooling anyone but Daisy. But the makeup helped her feel like everything was normal. That, along with Brennan's business-as-usual attitude, had restored her to her cheerful, bouncy self.

"So…what?" Booth asked, thinking it through in his mind, "You think Roberto was attacking her? Maybe he put his hand over her mouth to keep her quiet and she bit him."

"No, the placement of the bite is wrong for that," Brennan said. She pulled Booth's hand toward her and wrapped his arm around her body, putting his hand directly over her mouth as if he had attacked her from behind. Booth rolled his eyes at being included in another ridiculous little experiment, but he was shocked as she bit down on the meaty part of his finger.

"Ouch, Bones," he said petulantly. "I don't see why this is necessary."

Brennan ignored him and took his hand away from her mouth, her breath caressing his fingers. She examined the faint prints and held out his hand to show the others.

"See how the imprints curve toward the palm of Booth's hand with the imprint of the maxillary lateral incisors on the ventral surface of the hand?" she said, pointing to the indentations nearest to the palm. She lightly touched the mark as it faded. Her quick, soulful look at his face made his annoyances melt away as she watched to see if he was still okay with what she was doing.

"The marks made on Roberto's finger have a different orientation than these marks on Booth's finger," she explained as she turned back to Booth's hand. She took her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment, expressing her hesitation at what she was about to do, and Booth could practically see the gears turning in her mind as she glanced at him from over her shoulder. Her back nestled into his front and he became very aware of that fact as she pointed at the fading marks. He forced himself to pay attention to her science, not only her body, as she turned slightly, still with his arm partially wrapped around her and one hand lightly gripping her hip. His hand slid from her hip to the small of her back in a light caress as she turned completely to face him.

Her intention escaped him until she lifted his hand to her mouth again. Booth couldn't have concentrated on anything else even if he wanted to as he watched Brennan take his index finger into her mouth, the pad of his finger resting lightly on her tongue. He could barely breathe. Time stood still for one glorious moment as she bit down just above his knuckle, marking him temporarily. He swore that he could feel the tip of her tongue faintly tickle the pad of his finger as she slowly removed it from her mouth, though the feeling was so light that it could have been his imagination. Time rushed forward again, hitting him in the stomach with its suddenness as she licked her lips.

"Do you see the difference?" she asked, her voice breathy with excitement and something more.

"Oh, I see the difference," Angela said suggestively. Cam looked a little shell shocked at the display, Hodgins was grinning at his wife, and Daisy looked very pleased to see the two alphas acting as a mated pair. Booth struggled mightily to keep his arousal under his control, but Brennan was oblivious to her co-workers' reactions as she studied Booth's finger again.

"In this scenario, only the maxillary central incisors have imprinted on the dorsal surface of the phalange, and the concavity of the lingual fossa is distal, rather than ventral," she explained. "This is a match for the placement of the bite on Roberto's finger." As she spoke, Booth couldn't help but inhale her unique scent. She smelled divine. Her hair stirred lightly as she moved and it released a cloud of her breath-taking scent of rainforest mixed with the light spray of a waterfall on an isolated, rock-strewn pool. Booth heard her words, but they meant nothing to him as he watched her bite marks fade, and he had to force his thoughts away from the idea of her marking him more intimately and of him returning the favor. He wondered if he still had a voice after the little stunt his partner had pulled.

"I still don't know what that means, Bones," he rumbled. His voice was slightly deeper and more intimate than usual, and it affected Brennan on a primal level. She locked down on a shiver, but Booth felt the beginning of it before she clamped down on her emotions, and his eyes suddenly were heavy lidded with desire, knowing that that he wasn't imagining the way that little scenario had affected her like it had affected him.

"The placement of the bite, combined with SSV1 in the saliva, would suggest that Maria most likely bit Roberto prior to her shift intending to infect him with the shapeshifter virus," she explained.

"That's illegal!" Daisy exclaimed in horror.

It was a felony to knowingly infect a person with a potentially deadly virus, even when the person was a willing participant. Shapeshifters were warned long before their first shift to isolate themselves before shifting to avoid spreading the virus. It was a cultural taboo among shapeshifter communities to "create" shapeshifters as well as prohibited by law. According to the law, it was considered a class one felony, punishable by life in prison or even the death penalty in some states. The death penalty hadn't been enforced on this point since the fifties, but the punishment was still on the books. The wording of the law made it difficult for the prosecution to prove beyond reasonable doubt that a shapeshifter "knowingly" infected another person, so the cases usually ended with fines rather than death, but the risk was still high.

"It is a serious accusation, Bones," Booth said, his voice still low and secret in her ear. They hadn't yet moved away from each other, but they were realizing their position. Partners were able to act out a scene—even one that tested the boundaries of flirtation—and still be just partners. But "just partners" didn't stand in each other's arms gazing fondly at one another after the fact. Neither wanted to make the effort to step away, but Brennan forced herself to move out of Booth's arms. They both felt empty as they put some distance between each other. She pulled her composure around her like a cloak and Booth tried to do the same.

"It's only a theory," she murmured.

"But it's a sound theory," Hodgins chimed in. "That was the conclusion that I came to when I compiled this information."

"It's more common than you would think for a shapeshifter to infect their significant other with the virus so that they could join a pack as full members and so their children would be shapeshifters. But there are also people—both shapeshifters and non-shapeshifters—that are very strongly against it. That could very well be our killer's motive," Booth said firmly, switching into cop mode. "A member of a fanatic anti-shapeshifter group would be dedicated enough to capture and kill Roberto and hunt Maria for weeks before killing her the same way. I'll tell Sweets to check for any group who would fit the profile."

Angela sighed as Booth and Brennan moved even further apart. "I'll get started on the information about the missing weapons," she said resignedly, knowing that the moment was over between her favorite non-couple and it was unlikely to begin again with her hovering.

"And I'll…go to my office," Cam said, following through on her words, eager to leave the awkwardness of the situation.

"I'd better go to the Hoover," Booth said for Brennan's ears alone. Brennan nodded, letting her arms hang by her side although her hands itched to touch Booth again.

"I'll study the skeletons again and see if I can give you more information on the attacker or attackers," Brennan said with finality. Temporary separation would help them regain their ability to compartmentalize.

"And I'll fashion a crown out of pipettes to symbolize my status of King of the Lab," Hodgins said with a grin, breaking the tension between the partners with a snap. Booth scoffed, then clapped the bug man on the shoulder.

"You do that, then," Booth said mockingly. He spared a fleeting glance at Brennan, wanting to say something more, but he failed to find the words he wanted to say.

"I'll see you later, Booth," she said.

"Later, Bones," he responded, and moved out of the office, then out of the Jeffersonian.

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><p>AN: I love hearing your opinions. Thank you for reviewing!


	11. More Than One Kind of Family

A/N: Thank you so, so much for the response to the last chapter! I love the pack names that you've suggested.

Little disclaimer here: I mention a few fictional groups that use violence to advance their agendas in this story, but these groups have no basis in reality and aren't meant as a portrayal of any group or organization. Just to let you know.

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><p><strong>Chapter 11: More Than One Kind of Family<strong>

Brennan stood over the bones, looking at them intensely, but she couldn't focus on the skeleton in front of her. Her mind was on her partner, and though she tried to put him out of her mind, her thoughts kept returning to him. What she had meant as a simple reenactment of her theory had turned into something much more. His taste, the feeling of his body against hers, his warm, dry smell wrapped around her, and the sound of his voice rumbling in her ears all haunted her. All that combined made one thing very clear to her: that she was very compatible with her partner on a physical level. Chemicals produced by the body signaled physical compatibility to a potential mate, and her body was clamoring that Booth was the perfect match for her.

All the thoughts that flew around in her head were distracting her from the job at hand. She needed to compartmentalize to give justice to the victims. Forcing herself to study the bones in front of her instead of just staring blankly at the remains, she studied Maria's de-fleshed remains that were laid out on the shining steel table.

"You and Agent Booth were so cute today, Dr. Brennan," Daisy said, donning gloves and joining her mentor on the platform. Brennan turned her outraged eyes on her intern, but it didn't stop the young student. "You looked so sweet together, and the combined smell was intense! I felt like I was going to pass out because your mating scents were so strong."

"Ms. Wick," Brennan chided, her voice stern. She was feeling a little out of her depth. Mating scents? She knew of them, of course, but surely she and Booth didn't give off mating scents. Ms. Wick must be mistaken. Brennan pulled focus and admonished her intern. "Please show some professional behavior."

"Sorry, Dr. Brennan," she said, not looking at all sorry. "You two just make such a good alpha mating pair."

"We are not romantically involved, nor do we have plans to become so," she protested. She made her voice sound authoritative as she told her intern to return to work. Daisy was brilliant at her work, but sometimes Brennan wasn't sure that her brilliance was worth the aggravation. However, she tried to keep from using what Booth called her "scary alpha voice" on the pesky student. In her opinion, her voice was stern, commanding, and not at all "scary." But Booth had said that it would frighten little children, although he had also said it was "hot" once when she had used it to reduce a handsome, but snobby and spoiled young man to a passive, helpful witness. Using her "alpha voice" usually made a less dominant shapeshifter comply instantly, but she didn't want to force compliance on anyone, even someone as irritating as Daisy Wick.

"Oh, but you should!" Daisy gushed. "As an alpha mating pair, you could start your own pack…"

"Ms. Wick, contain yourself," Dr. Brennan said firmly. Daisy wilted for a brief moment, but then smiled with her usual ebullience.

"Of course, Dr. Brennan," she said.

"Did you compare these marks on ribs 7 to 9 to the male victim's ribs as I asked?" Brennan asked, moving the media cam over the ribs in question.

"Yes, Dr. Brennan," Daisy chirped. "I found that the object that caused the fractures to the female victim's ribs match the object that caused the male victim's rib fractures as well. The female victim most likely sustained the fractures to her ribs shortly after shifting to her human form because they have an accelerated rate of remodeling."

That information was another piece of evidence that supported the theory that there was one killer for the two victims. Deep in thought, Brennan studied the image of the marks on the screen. The radiating fractures on the ninth rib had been caused by too much force to be a punch, but not enough for a bat or another similarly wielded weapon. It was likely a well-placed kick from a heavy shoe or boot.

"Please swab the area and then take a cast of these marks, Ms. Wick," she demanded.

"Of course, Dr. Brennan," Daisy responded faithfully. She turned to retrieve the sterile swabs and container, and returned, bouncing on her toes as she skipped back. They worked in silence for a while before Daisy couldn't contain herself any longer and blurted, "Lance and I are a cute couple, but I don't think we could ever be as magnetic as you and Agent Booth. I would love to be in a pack with you as the Alpha. It would be so wonderful, do you think, Dr. Brennan?"

Brennan took a deep breath and slowly let it out as she counted to ten. It didn't help calm her ire and she made a decision before she snapped at her intern.

"I'll be in my office," she said, thinking that it would be better to avoid her than risk unprofessional behavior like yelling. "Please continue." Before Daisy could comment, she turned and left.

~BB~

Booth strolled down the hall to Sweets' office, humming merrily to himself. Brennan's little performance had worked better on his back than any legal painkiller and he was in good spirits as he went to find the psychologist. He found the kid in the doorway to his office, ushering in a mousy-looking, brown haired man with a mustache and a few extra pounds on his thick frame.

"Hey Sweets!" Booth called, holding up a hand and clapping it companionably on the young man's shoulder. Sweets fought not to stagger under the unintentional show of Booth's strength.

"Agent Booth, as you can see, I'm about to start a session," he said nervously, gesturing to the agent in front of him. Booth smiled at the guy, but reserved his attention for the psychologist.

"I'm sure it can wait one minute," he said flippantly. Sweets sighed, resigned to the fact that when it came to him, what Booth wanted, he was sure to get.

"Excuse me," he said to his patient, "This won't take but a moment."

Booth sauntered into the office, Sweets following behind. When the door closed, Booth flopped down on the couch where he and Brennan had spent so much time in partner's therapy. Sweets wanted any advantage he could get, however slight it may be, so he stayed standing, taking the high ground.

"What can I do for you, Agent Booth," he asked politely. Booth smiled, knowing what was going through Sweets' mind just by his choice.

"Bones discovered something important about the case," he said. "Maria Lopez attempted to infect her boyfriend, Roberto, with the shapeshifter virus shortly before he was killed."

Sweets' eyebrows shot into his wavy hair, and his pouty lips dropped open in shock. "That totally changes things," he commented. "But it also widens the suspect pool, as none of our suspects so far show that radical type of animosity towards shapeshifters."

"Do you know of any groups that are liable to become violent against created shapeshifters and their makers?" Booth asked. Sweets thought for a moment before answering.

"The most prominent one would be Humans First, of course, since they are very anti-shapeshifter. They consider a human who chooses to become a 'werewolf' the most vile type of traitor against humanity, but they would probably take credit for the crime, rather than cover it up," Sweets said, deep in thought as he scoured his enormous brain for any more links. "I suppose it could also be a right-wing extremist group like the Pure Blood Americans who believes shapeshifters are unfit to be citizens, or on the opposite side, the left-wing extremists like Mother Nature's Fist who believe creating shapeshifters is a crime against the natural order. But all three of those groups would be firmly in the territory of domestic terrorism. I would have to do some research."

"Well, get that info for me soon," Booth demanded, jumping to his feet gracefully. Bones had really worked magic on his pain levels. If only he could have her mouth on him every day… Booth quickly dragged his mind out of the gutter that it had fallen into and hoped that Sweets didn't notice.

"You sound like an Alpha," Sweets commented, a speculative and hopeful look in his eye. Booth faked a shudder.

"Believe me, no one is happier than me that I'm not your Alpha," he said, only half joking. He clicked his tongue against his teeth. "I'll keep you updated about the case while you do your shrink-y thing to narrow down our suspects."

He left, leaving Sweets standing in the door with his patient. Sweets sighed fatalistically, then straightened his shoulders and reminded himself that he was a doctor and worked with the FBI. He was the equal to any challenge or obstacle that life and Agent Booth could throw at him. His little mental pep talk didn't help as much as he wanted it to, but he made himself smile at his next appointment and usher him into the office. Sweets just hoped that Booth wouldn't kill him when the agent found out what he had done.

~BB~

Brennan was diligently studying the x-rays of Roberto Martinez on her computer, attempting to keep away from her prying intern. She was taking another look at the ribs just as the security guard came into her office.

"This just came for you, Dr. Brennan. I signed for it," he said, holding out a thick, sealed envelope. "Security didn't find anything suspicious."

"Thank you," she said absently, taking the package from him. She signed the receipt and handed the clipboard and pen back to him before tearing open the edge and pulling out the formal documents. As she read through the papers, she began to get more and more upset. Shoving the papers back into the envelope, she grabbed her purse and jacket and exited her office, not bothering to turn off any lights or equipment. Everyone steered clear of her as she marched through the building and left in her car without notice to anyone.

~BB~

Booth saw a folder lying in the middle of his desk when he finally came back to his office about half an hour after talking with Sweets. It wasn't the traditional FBI folder with which he kept track of his cases and the piles of paperwork that came attached. It did look official, though, and he wondered if this folder was in relation to that Department of Homeland Security case they had solved a while back. Picking it up, he scanned the blank front and looked at the tab, which simply had his name and his partner's "S. Booth & T. Brennan" with no other identifying markers. He opened it casually, wondering why he had a file on his partnership on his desk.

As the contents became clear to him, he became more and more angry. "Oh, hell no!" he said, closing the file and storming out of his office. As he pushed angrily though the clear doors to the foyer where the elevators were, Brennan met him as she steamed off the elevator car.

"What were you thinking?" she said furiously, pushing the papers into his face as at the same time Booth yelled, "Bones, why the hell would you pull something like this without telling me?"

Both pulled back, eying the other and noticed that they had drawn a crowd. "Let's continue this in my office," Booth finally said, smoothing his hand down his tie. Brennan nodded and stalked around him, out of the reach of his extended hand. When they were safely in his office away from all but the most prying of eyes, Brennan held out the envelope for Booth's inspection.

"This came for me this afternoon in the mail. I want an explanation for it," she demanded angrily. He took her envelope and shoved his folder into her hands.

"I'm not sure what's going on, Bones, but we'll figure it out," Booth said, fighting down his anger and anxiety. It was becoming clear that his partner hadn't instigated this and was a much of a victim as he was.

"So you didn't make us the head of your own pack?" Brennan asked with deceptive calm as she scanned the paperwork in the folder. It was almost identical to the paperwork she had received, with the exception of his personal information replacing hers throughout the form.

"I swear I didn't, Bones," he said. "I'm not stupid enough to endanger my life and the lives of my friends and family as well as disrupt my career because of a…a power trip."

"Well, then who…?" she wondered out loud. The answer struck them both simultaneously and they marched out of the office. Booth banged through the hallways, with Brennan matching him stride for stride, like always, and they unerringly made their way to Sweets' office.

"What the hell is this?" Booth demanded as he barged into the young psychologist's office. Sweets stared up from his laptop with wide, nervous eyes as Booth slammed the paperwork down on his desk.

"Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan…if you would like to make an appointment…" he began, licking his lips nervously as he felt the anger and frustration leveled his way. He fought the urge to cringe and cower under their glares.

"No, we have no interest in making an appointment," Brennan said, shutting the door behind her.

"That's not why we're here, Sweets," Booth leaned his tall frame by one hand on Sweets' desk and tapped the papers on his desk meaningfully. Brennan came up beside her partner, towering over Sweets and trapping the young psychologist in his chair.

"Let me assure you that I have no idea whatsoever…" he stuttered defensively. Booth bared his teeth in a smile that was not at all comforting.

"Listen kid, I may not have been born a wolf, but I can still smell a lie on you," Booth growled. Sweets slunk down in his seat as he tried to escape their combined glares. He couldn't help but make the signs of submission, baring his throat and breaking eye contact.

"Did you requisition the paperwork for creating a new pack in the DC area?" Brennan demanded. Her voice wasn't as deep as Booth's, but her growl still managed to carry the same amount of threat and authority as her partner's. Sweets gave her the same level of submission as he gave Booth.

"Yes, Dr. Brennan," he confessed.

"And you named us the pack leaders?" Booth exclaimed, "What were you thinking?"

"Listen, guys, I know you didn't want to be involved, but you are. The only way you'll be protected is if you are a member of a pack!" Sweets hurriedly said in his defense.

"Sweets, you don't think I know when I'm being fed a line of crap?" Booth said menacingly, "You're interested in saving your own fluffy tail, not ours. You've crossed your Pack leader and now you want to take the target off your back and stick it firmly on ours."

"It's not just me that I'm worried about. Daisy is no longer under the protection of the Pack either. I know it's not within the normal boundaries of a pack, but she has transferred not just her trust and loyalty, but also her obedience to you, Dr. Brennan. The Alpha won't stand for that. He can't, because it will undermine his authority. Please, we won't be able to survive without a pack to support us as we leave the DC Pack," Sweets begged, his face agonized. "He'll kill us and report it as a challenge to his authority that was handled by combat."

Booth and Brennan looked at each other, having an entire conversation silently. They knew that it was probably true. Even though neither was part of a pack, they knew the realities of life in the giant DC Pack. It was one of the reasons why they refused to join, even though it could have given them some advantages. But unlike Booth and Brennan, Sweets and Daisy were both submissive wolves and couldn't stand up to their Alpha, Cesar Delgado. The Alpha would have no choice but to punish them for transferring their loyalties outside of the Pack. Daisy had already been hurt and Brennan felt responsible for her, even though there was nothing that she had done to require Daisy's loyalty and obedience as a pack leader. Daisy had transferred her loyalty naturally, without coercion. The feeling of guilt stung every time she thought of her intern's injuries at the hands of someone who was supposed to protect and support her. She knew that Booth felt the same way, probably even more so, because his nature drove him to defend those who couldn't defend themselves.

"Listen, I wouldn't have done this if I could see another way out of this," Sweets admitted, his voice low and desperate. "There's no precedence for two created shapeshifters becoming the Alphas for a Pack of shifters who weren't family members. Even though you have not trusted me with the story of how you became shapeshifters, I know that you weren't born a shapeshifter like I was or Daisy was. But you see? That may be the thing that we need to get out of the Pack without being stranded. You two don't act like regular Alphas, but you're still as strong as or stronger than the strongest pack leader I've known. Please give this a chance," Sweets begged emotionally.

"Sweets, I get what you're saying," Booth said, moved by the psychologist's speech against his wishes. "I just don't think I can do this. I have a son. Can you imagine what would happen to Parker if he got caught in the middle of this?"

"I understand that it would require sacrifices…" Sweets began, only to be cut off.

"Sacrifices? You're asking me to sacrifice the safety of my _son_ for you! Don't talk to me about sacrifices," Booth said violently, pushing back and pacing the area between the door and the desk.

"You two are practically a pack already," Sweets argued frantically, seeing his chances slip away with every word Booth spoke. "Why not just make it official?"

"Because making it official will _officially_ make Parker a member of my pack, since he's my son, even if he is only a carrier for the shapeshifter gene," Booth said, his voice revealing his torment. He wanted to help, but he had to think about his child first. He had to make them see that. "Parker would be the weakest member, the easiest to target, and hurting him would be the best way to hurt me," he explained. Brennan looked at him compassionately, knowing how much he loved his son and he was very protective of those he loved. Booth forced his gaze away from the understanding eyes of his partner and focused on persuading Sweets who was looking more beaten down now than he had that morning. "I'm sorry, but I can't take the chance that Cesar Delgado would come after my son to target me for 'stealing' you and Daisy away from him. That's how he operates, and you know it as well as anyone."

"I understand," Sweets whispered brokenly. He bent his head to hide his tears as he saw the last chance to leave the Pack with protection slip away. Booth looked near tears himself as he stopped his pacing in front of the desk, bracing against it for dear life as he hung his head between his outstretched arms. Brennan placed her hand lightly on her partner's tense back as she smelled the slight change in his scent that preceded a shift. Her touch calmed him slightly; enough that he pulled himself back from the dangerous edge.

Brennan stood between two heartbroken men, weighing her options. She understood both of their reasons for responding the way they did. The desire to protect and preserve those considered family was strong, having its roots in the genetic makeup of primates. It was hardwired in each human to do whatever it takes to make sure the individual's genes were passed down. In Sweets, it meant that he was driven to protect his chosen mate that might one day bear his offspring. In Booth, it meant a deep conviction to shield his offspring from danger even though it meant leaving his friend in a dangerous situation. She had neither a chosen mate nor offspring, so she was less burdened by those attachments. However, as irrational as it was, she felt that she had no choice but to act as if she were protecting someone who shared her DNA.

Without looking at either man, she quietly took the envelope that contained her paperwork. She read through it meticulously twice, making sure she understood every facet of it. By the time she had finished her study, both Sweets and Booth watched her curiously. She bore the scrutiny with aplomb, casually reaching for a pen from the cup on Sweets' desk. Her intentions became clear as she calmly started to sign her name at the bottom of the last page. Booth slapped his hand over hers.

"You can't do this, Bones," he said intensely, holding the pen still at the down stroke of the "T" in her signature.

"I understand why you can't, Booth," she said quietly. "Parker is too young to be dragged into a possibly dangerous situation, and you have your position at the FBI to think of as well. But I believe that I am capable of undertaking this task and I also believe that this is the right thing for me to do."

"Bones," he protested brokenly, his voice gravelly and his stare penetrating. He couldn't find the strength to voice his fears, but they were all compressed in his nickname for her. "Please."

"I feel responsible for Daisy Wick," she confided to her partner. They both forgot about Sweets for a moment, though he was watching with rabid hope. "She is my intern, and I have a duty to her whether I desire it or not. And Sweets is…" she struggled to find an accurate description for what the young man was to them both. Part colleague, part annoying younger brother, and all baby duckling. She continued, her voice gaining passion, but not rising in volume, "Sweets is my friend. I can't leave either one of them for Cesar Delgado to abuse as he sees fit."

The room held its breath for a long, powerful moment. Then Booth stepped closer and bowed his head until his forehead was leaning lightly against hers. "That's a lot of heart, Bones," he said quietly. There was absolute adoration in his eyes as he repeated the phrase he had used during her father's trial when she had also put herself in harms' way to protect her family.

"Don't worry, Booth," she said, touching his jaw lightly with just the tips of her fingers, "I can take care of myself."

They held that intimate pose for several slow heartbeats. Slowly, reluctantly, Booth took his hand away from Brennan's pen. He closed his eyes and took a ragged breath, then lifted his head, surrendering to her wishes and to her huge heart. Brennan's fingers trailed away from his jaw, and he felt their absence keenly. He still stood very close to her and his heart almost burst with pride as he watched her set her pen precisely where she had left off and complete her signature.

"Thank you, Dr. Brennan," Sweets said humbly.

"Please file the paperwork appropriately," she told Sweets, "After this is filed with the Office of Human and Shifter Affairs, then you may request a transfer to the new Pack." As she spoke, she added the pertinent information in the blank spaces and corrected the information that included Booth. She didn't have to fill in very much. Her shapeshifter ID number was the only personal information that Sweets hadn't been able to add to the paperwork. Brennan mused that he had gathered enough information to potentially steal her identity. Her date of birth, social security number, animal form, and the names of her parents were all listed on the paper. She placed it all back in the envelope and handed it to her new de facto pack member. As he reached out to grab it, Brennan held onto it for a moment until Sweets raised his eyes to hers.

"If you ever request anything using my personal information without my knowledge again, I will have you prosecuted to the full extent of the law," she warned. Sweets nodded, his face a mixture of pure joy, relief, and a healthy dose of fear for what Brennan was capable of.

"Yes, Alpha," he said meekly. Brennan's face showed her annoyance at her new title.

"I'd prefer if you didn't call me that," she said huffily.

"Of course, Dr. Brennan," he said eagerly. He hugged the precious envelope to his body and with a beaming smile, he walked out, leaving Brennan and Booth alone in Sweets' office.

"Oh, Bones," Booth sighed once they had a little time to themselves. "Please be careful."

"You know that I'll be careful," she said, taking the folder that had Booth's information on it. She went over to the shredder behind Sweets' desk and fed the pages one by one into the mouth, seeing them fall in pieces into the bin below. Booth scoffed at her statement.

"No, I don't know that you'll be careful. You're actually quite reckless with your safety," he argued. Brennan finished shredding the last page and placed the blank folder in the trash after ripping off the tab with their names on it. She looked at him steadily.

"You may be exaggerating the threat that Cesar Delgado poses to me as the leader of a new pack," Brennan said calmly.

"I don't think so," Booth responded, becoming agitated once more. "If anything, I'm understating the threat."

"Explain your reasoning," Brennan asked, her face showing her need for evidence.

"Do you remember the fire two years ago that burnt down a business on Quarry Road and took out the two buildings next to it?" Booth asked.

"No, of course not," Brennan said.

"Of course not," Booth muttered, "You know, it wouldn't kill you to pick up a newspaper once in a while. Those don't require a TV to operate."

"You're being ridiculous, Booth. What does this have to do with Cesar Delgado?" she demanded.

"Well, thing is, that business belonged to Vanessa and Mickey McKinley, a couple who decided to leave the DC Pack and start their own family pack as Alphas. They left without Delgado's permission and registered for their own pack with another couple who had just moved into the area, Horace and Katrina Jersey. The McKinleys reported that their little dog was poisoned just a few days after they left the Pack, and they pointed the finger at Cesar Delgado, but nothing came of it. A week later the mechanic shop on Quarry Road owned by the McKinleys went up in flames. Then a few weeks after that, the McKinleys were found beaten and shot dead in an alley. Supposedly it was a mugging gone bad. None of it could be traced back to Cesar Delgado, but a member of his Pack, a young wolf, was found guilty of arson," Booth said, hoping to bring home the seriousness of the situation. "The Jerseys joined the DC Pack after that."

"But you believe that it was Cesar Delgado that was responsible for the killings and arson?" Brennan clarified.

"Yes," Booth said, his voice hard and dangerous. Many people had tried to put the corrupt Pack leader behind bars for crimes that the police suspected he engineered, but so far he remained free and Booth bitterly resented that fact. "I think that's only the most public example of what he's capable of. You need to be careful, Bones," he pleaded. "Not just careful, you need to be paranoid once this is official. I think Daisy and Sweets need to watch their backs as well, but you are going to be the one he will go for with a vengeance."

"I would like to see more evidence that suggests that Delgado was behind those crimes. You know I don't do well with anecdotes," she complained. "I need proof, otherwise your claims are unsubstantiated."

"Listen, Bones," Booth said, his stare intense, "If he is willing to beat Sweets and Daisy just for arriving late, what do you think he would do to someone who crossed him in a way that is a blatant threat to his power? You are the one who is challenging his authority by taking members of his pack. Please, please don't ignore this."

"I promise I'll be careful, Booth," she said sincerely, wanting to ease his worry. She decided to make a gesture that she knew Booth would appreciate, and said magnanimously, "I will take your recommendations as to my safety."

"Damn right, you will," he said.

"But I want to have the final say in implementing whatever recommendations you make," she argued.

"Bones," he said in warning. "You don't know this guy like I do. Believe me, Cesar Delgado is a bad dude, and whatever precautions I deem necessary, you will follow. To the letter."

"We'll see," she said cryptically.

"Don't take the risk," he begged, "You have more than yourself to think of now."

"I understand, and I told you that I would take your recommendations," she shot back. Booth resigned himself to fight with Brennan over her safety from here to kingdom come. He wished he could split the risk with her, but he was incredibly proud of her for doing this for Sweets and Daisy.

"Listen, Bones," he said, his voice low and almost shy, "You know I'm here for you."

"I know that, Booth," she said, her face showing adorable confusion. The trust on her face made his heart ache with honor and pride that she deemed him worthy of that trust. But he wanted her to know that he was more than her partner in this.

"I mean," he tried to clarify, "I know I'm not on the paperwork, but I want you to know that you can rely on me. For anything."

He could see Brennan deciding whether to bristle at the insinuation that she couldn't handle it by herself or to accept his help as a friendly offer from her partner. She decided to take it as the latter and smiled at him and placed her hand lightly on his arm. "I know that I can. Thank you, Booth."

* * *

><p>AN: So what do you think? I love your thoughts!


	12. Beginnings

A/N: Thank you for all your reviews. I'm happy to say that the pack name has been chosen and will be revealed in the next chapter. Congrats to bonesmd007 for winning the prize for the pack name contest!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12: Beginnings<strong>

Brennan felt her stomach growl after driving back to the Jeffersonian and it rumbled loudly enough to draw her attention to it after she had been working for a while. She made her way off the platform where she had been reviewing Maria Lopez's bones and rummaged through her desk drawer to find something to hold her over until she left for the day. She had pushed herself to eat regularly between meals in preparation for the upcoming shift, but the snacks that she had stocked in her office were very low for some strange reason. She didn't remember eating all of her snacks, and she distinctly remembered placing a jar of pistachios on her desk, but that jar, along with most of her snacks, was missing. She sighed and looked at the clock. It was 6:00 and she was hungry. Angela and Hodgins moved pass her office, but stopped when they saw she was inside.

"Hey, Sweetie," Angela said. She noticed that Brennan was checking the drawer that she stored her snacks in and fleetingly felt guilty. To make up for it, she asked, "Come eat dinner with us."

"No, thank you, Angela," she said, "I have a meal in the lounge refrigerator."

"It's not the left over half of a sandwich that you had for lunch is it?" she asked skeptically. She shifted her weight, feeling the strain in her back as she waited for Brennan's answer.

"I would like to eat it before it loses its palatability," Brennan said. Angela sighed in mock despair over Brennan's habits.

"Well, tough," Angela said firmly, cupping her protruding belly, "Because the baby wanted it so I ate it. The avocado was perfect for the baby."

Brennan narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Did the baby also want my pistachios?" she asked. Angela had the grace to look sheepish.

"And the rest of your smoked almonds," she confessed. Brennan smiled a little, much more excited for Angela and Hodgins and their little offspring than dismayed because Angela was pilfering her food.

"At least the baby wants foods that are relatively healthy," she offered. Angela laughed a little and smiled brilliantly.

"Well, the baby actually wanted chocolate pudding, but I was too lazy to ask Hodgins to get some more."

"You should have let me know," Hodgins said. "Then you would have all the chocolate pudding your heart desires."

She smiled at her husband and then turned back to her best friend. "So, dinner?" she asked again.

Hodgins chimed in with a smile, "We'd love for you to join us, Dr. B."

"Okay," she agreed gracefully. At her answer, Angela abandoned her husband and wrapped her arm around Brennan's, barely giving her enough time to shut down her computer and gather the files she wanted to take home before dragging her out of the office.

Arm in arm, Brennan and Angela walked to their cars, leaving Hodgins to trail behind. "Why don't I pull around the car?" he offered, wanting to coddle his wife.

"I can walk all the way to the car," Angela said irritably. "I'm not sick, I'm just pregnant."

"I know, I just…" Hodgins began, but he knew it was pointless to argue or explain. He fell silent and listen to Angela and Brennan discuss the baby's development and the treatment of pregnant women through the ages. Hodgins rolled his eyes while they weren't looking as he heard his wife make several jabs aimed at the overprotective nature of men in general and Hodgins in particular.

They reached Brennan's car first, as she had more seniority with the Jeffersonian and a better parking place than either Hodgins or Angela. She disengaged her arm as she noticed something on the windshield of her Prius. It was a plain white envelope with her name printed on the front. She slid it out from under the windshield wiper and turned it over, examining it curiously.

"You didn't get a parking ticket, did you?" Angela asked.

"No," she responded, "I don't know what it is at the moment." She looked at her name on the front, without her title of doctor. The back wasn't sealed, just folded shut. She opened it and pulled out a small card. Centered in the middle of the otherwise blank card in small black type with all capital letters was a short message. It read:

YOUR NOT THERE ALPHA

STAY AWAY FROM THE WOLVES

"What is it, some kind of invitation? Fan mail?" Angela asked.

"No," she said calmly, though her heart rate picked up. It wasn't a threat, exactly, but she suddenly wished she had worn gloves before handling it so she could run some tests on it without contaminating the results. There was nothing else written on the card or envelope, just her name on the front and the short message inside. "I'm not sure what it is, but the writer's grammar is appalling. He or she misspelled 'you're' and 'their.'"

"That's got to be annoying," Hodgins said, oblivious to her change in demeanor. "I mean, you've corrected my emails before when I messed that up. I can't even abbreviate by using 'U-R' instead of 'your.' I mean, c'mon, they're emails! They're supposed to have bad grammar."

Angela noticed something was wrong as she watched her friend stare at the paper that she could have completely memorized in a flash. "What is it, Bren?" she asked, her voice showing her newfound worry. Her agitated tone got Hodgins' attention quickly.

"Do we need to call security? If it's one of those stalker fans that came through the Jeffersonian tour leaving letters for you…" Hodgins said before Brennan cut off his words.

"It's nothing like that," she said, hoping that her words were true. "I believe it's related to the fact that I have decided to create my own pack."

"Wow, Sweetie!" Angela said, "When were you going to tell us about it?"

"The paperwork was submitted only this afternoon, Ange," she reassured her friend, "I am not sure whether it is even official yet."

"Tell me that it's because you and Booth finally got your heads on straight and started making little liguars," Angela cooed ecstatically. "I knew that you two wouldn't lose the hotness once you'd done the deed. And let me tell you, that show you put on with Booth today in the lab was hot!"

"Booth and I are not together," she told her friend. Angela looked skeptical, so Brennan continued, "The only members of my pack up to the present time are Sweets, Daisy and myself."

"Booth didn't want a part of the action?" Angela asked, her face falling as the images of little furry liguar cubs rolling around the grass started to fade.

"He has to think of Parker and his career at the FBI," she explained. Angela and Hodgins were good friends, and they knew more than the average non-shapeshifter about shifters and packs, but they didn't realize the intricacies of pack life and the way it affected life outside the pack. Angela viewed it like starting a family, and she equated Brennan's distrust of the DC Pack with her distrust of the family that abandoned her. Brennan never corrected her on the fact that pack life was simultaneously more and less than simply being part of a family.

"That's a shame," Angela said. "You two make such a cute couple. And I bet you would be just as cute together as big kitties."

"Are you sure that we shouldn't call Booth?" Hodgins asked, not deterred by Angela's fantasies of Brennan and Booth babies. He knew that the special agent would likely kill him if Booth knew that there was a possibility that something was threatening his partner and Hodgins didn't do anything about it.

"I'll tell Booth later," she promised. Hodgins looked unconvinced, but Angela was still on her Booth-and-Bren-together-cloud and pulled him along to the car.

"Meet you at Founding Fathers," Angela called. Brennan placed the card on top of the envelope and when Angela and Hodgins were out of sight, she placed the message in an evidence bag. She decided to honor Booth's comment that she should be "paranoid" and she checked her car for tampering, looking for wires where none should be, leaking fluid, or anything else that looked suspicious or out of place. It didn't take her very long, although she tried to be as thorough as possible. By the time she was in the driver's seat, Hodgins and Angela pulled by her, deafening her with a loud beep.

Dinner was very pleasant. Angela was in a good mood and kept the conversation flowing easily. Brennan and Hodgins detoured into scientific wanderings about the case, but Angela steered them onto topics that were not work related. At the end of their meal, when they were all sitting back in their chairs sipping their drinks and Angela was eating her chocolate soufflé, Angela brought up Brennan's Pack.

"So are you the new Alpha?" she asked. Brennan nodded. Angela was filled with questions and asked, "What does an Alpha do? I mean, could anyone be an Alpha in a pack? Could I be one?"

"The Alpha of a Pack is more than a ceremonial position," Brennan said. "Because you are not a shapeshifter, you could not be the Alpha of a Pack, because you couldn't fill the basic needs of the Pack. I suppose that you could be an honorary member of a pack, and it is possible that you would be dominant enough to be an alpha, but you couldn't be _the_ Alpha."

"What needs does an Alpha need to fill?" Hodgins asked, leaning his elbows on the table as he nursed his beer. Brennan mirrored his position, propping her elbows on the table.

"The most important need is protecting the pack. It used to be that an alpha had to be physically strong to protect the pack and his or her position in it, but now it is more important for an alpha to have money and influence rather than physical superiority. A strong shifting pattern is also critical," she said. Taking a sip of her wine, she continued, "The second most important need is controlling and easing a shift for the pack members under the alpha's authority," Brennan explained. "Especially in young shapeshifters or new mothers."

"I didn't know that a shapeshifter needed help during a shift," Angela said with surprise on her face. She looked slightly worried, and stated, "You shift alone."

"I have an alpha's shift pattern," she explained, "It allows me to shift on my own without any need for a ritual that includes an alpha or any extra stimulants or tranquilizers. It also has the added benefit of being relatively quick. I haven't needed help shifting at any time in my life, even when I first became a shapeshifter. However, it's easier for me to shift in conjunction with another alpha. The transition is smoother and less painful. That is why Booth and I try to schedule our shifts together."

For all the years that she had been Brennan's friend, Angela never knew any of this. Part of the reason was that Brennan wasn't a typical shapeshifter. She spent the first 25 years of her life as a regular human until she went on a dig in the jungles of El Salvador as a young graduate student and was kidnapped and held for three miserable days by armed men. One of the men was a jaguar shapeshifter from Guatemala who bit Brennan while he was shifting. She came back to her home four months later as a jaguar shifter, completely separate from the shapeshifter community in DC. Being a shapeshifter wasn't a way of life to Brennan. It was something that Brennan felt she had to overcome, just like she overcame her years in the foster system or the fact that she was a woman in a male-dominated field. She worked harder and made more sacrifices, but she made her own way in the world that was unique to her.

"So what does an Alpha do during someone's shift?" Angela asked, eager to know more.

"What an Alpha does depends on what type of shift the shapeshifter under his command will undergo. A shift could be spontaneous or induced. A spontaneous shift is dangerous and the Alpha needs to be present each time. Young teens that are just entering puberty will spontaneously shift because of the hormonal imbalance in their system. Mothers who have just given birth to their young will also spontaneously shift for the same reason. There are other cases where a shapeshifter will shift without warning or preparation, but those are the main two," Brennan said.

She thought about Luis Lopez who was still sedated in the hospital, but didn't mention his case to her friends as she continued, "An Alpha has to be there in order to moderate the severity of a shift. The pheromones that an Alpha gives off calms the shifter, allowing the shifter's body to regulate the shifting factors in the blood. Without an Alpha, some shapeshifters would die. Others would simply lose consciousness before a shift occurs because of the severity of the pain, despite the location or position they may be in. However, spontaneous shifts are less common than induced shifts. Regular shifting in the presence of an alpha reduces the incidence of spontaneous shifts."

"This is fascinating!" Angela exclaimed, "Why didn't I know any of this?"

"Most likely because you didn't take the time to research," Brennan said. Angela debated whether or not to take offence at that statement, but decided that it was a lovable quirk of Brennan's personality.

"That's true, but I didn't even know that a pack was so complicated. Or in Booth's case, would it be a pride?" Angela asked curiously.

"Booth told me that he stayed in a pride for a couple of months after he left the army, but no, there are no prides in North America," she said. "The correct terminology for the Pack in which I am the Alpha would perhaps be a Clan, rather than a Pack, seeing as there is more than one species represented. But the term 'Pack' is so ingrained in North American shapeshifter culture that I doubt that nomenclature would ever be used. The paperwork didn't even have another option besides 'Pack.'"

"Is it going to be a problem for you to be in a pack with two wolves?" Hodgins asked. "It seems very odd, like the lioness who raised antelopes as her cubs."

"I suppose it would be a strange clash of traditions if I was, in fact, raised by a pride of jaguars," Brennan mused. She shook her head finally, and said, "I don't foresee it being a problem, because the shifting process is the same across the range of species, but I'm going to speak with Sweets and Daisy about it. The problem I'm anticipating is regarding the status of Daisy as my graduate student and intern. There's not a precedent for this at the Jeffersonian, so I'm unsure as to what steps I need to take."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out," Angela reassured her.

The talk wound down from there. Brennan finally said goodnight as Hodgins and Angela ambled to their car, whispering in each other's ears. Brennan watched them for a lonely moment before turning down the street where she had parked. The wind was brisk and chilly, nipping at her ears and nose as she pulled her jacket closer around her and stuck her hands in her pockets. The noise of the city hummed around her as she walked down the sidewalk in the semi-darkness, but she kept a close eye on the shadows, mindful of the message she had received and Booth's warning. She reached her car without a problem, but was startled when her phone broke the silence.

"Brennan," she answered, pleased when her voice didn't show how jumpy she was.

"Dr. Brennan? This is Lance. I mean, Sweets. I mean, this is Dr. Lance Sweets," a flustered Sweets said.

"What can I do for you Dr. Sweets?" she asked, unlocking her car and sliding into the seat.

"I was wondering, well, Daisy and I were wondering, perhaps you would like to meet us to have a drink and discuss the new pack?" he asked. "It would be a good opportunity to get to know each other on more than a professional level."

Brennan fought not to sigh or show any other sign that she was reluctant. She didn't want to deal with her new pack members tonight. While she was debating with herself, her phone beeped, indicating that there was another caller on the line.

"Excuse me, Dr. Sweets, while I take this call," she said. Without waiting for confirmation, she switched lines and answered as usual. "Brennan."

"Hey, Bones," Booth said wearily. "You busy?"

"Sweets is holding on the other line," Brennan said.

"Oh, good, so you're not busy," Booth said in a teasing tone of voice.

"Did you call me for a reason?" Brennan asked, her voice curious, rather than accusing as she started her car. She smoothly used her car's interface to place Booth on speaker, allowing her to drive without holding the phone.

"Have you ever known me to call without a reason?" Booth asked rhetorically. Brennan didn't wait for very long before answering.

"Once you called me to tell me that a dog urinated on the tire of your vehicle, Booth," she said, naming a call she had received from Booth only days earlier. "I would consider that to be an unnecessary call." She worked to keep a smile from her face, but she didn't succeed, her smile blossoming as she remembered her partner lamenting about the state of his newly washed car.

"Ah, but I had a reason for my call," Booth argued. He didn't try to hide that he was amused.

"It was a pointless conversation," she said. Although she complained about it, she cherished the "pointless" conversations with her partner almost as much as the more meaningful ones.

"Bones, I was sharing a part of my day with my partner. It was helping strengthen our partnership," he contended. "Surely that's reason enough for you."

"I fail to see how your experience with a dog marking its territory in any way strengthens our partnership," she said.

"It's sharing, Bones," he explained with a smile, "I share my day, you share yours. We become better partners."

"You're saying that it's a cumulative effect that includes trivial matters," she clarified for her own edification.

"Of course," Booth said. He wondered if Brennan would call him on his half-baked theory, but concluded that she must like their "pointless" talks as much as he did. Especially if they could stick it to Sweets by making him hold on the other line.

"So what is your reason for calling me now?" she asked.

"Eh," he grunted, his voice losing some of its cheerfulness, "Luis slipped into a coma this afternoon. The doctor just told the FBI that he doesn't expect Luis's body to maintain its state for much longer, and when he shifts…"

"It would most likely be fatal," Brennan finished. The silence between them was filled with sadness, but also comfort, because each partner knew that the other was feeling the same thing.

"More bad news: I called Emilio Lopez, who was registered as his son's pack leader, and he said that he was no longer Luis's Alpha. Mr. Lopez says that he hasn't been his son's Alpha for several years, but he doesn't know whose pack Luis is part of," Booth told her. The implications were clear to Brennan. If they couldn't find Luis's Alpha, then there was only a very slim chance that Luis would continue to postpone a shift. But even with his Alpha in the room with him, Luis still didn't have a large chance of coming out of his coma with his mind intact. The longer his body was under the influence of the anabolic steroid, the more shifting proteins his body would make. The shifting proteins in his system would then be attacked by his still human immune system. The immune system didn't tolerate hybrid proteins for very long in the body and it would begin to attack its own cells in an attempt to rid itself of what it saw as the foreign invaders, raising body temperatures to high levels that would destroy brain tissue, even with medical intervention.

"Perhaps we could go to the hospital tomorrow to see if he responds to our pheromones," she suggested.

"Yeah, I mean, there's not really anything else we can do if we can't locate his Alpha," Booth lamented. "By the way, the doctor is pretty embarrassed that you tricked him."

"If he assumed that I was Luis's Alpha, then I can't be held accountable," she said righteously. Booth chuckled at her tone.

"Your frontal lobe is really expanding," Booth told her. "Lying to paramedics, then doctors…"

"I didn't lie to anyone!" she protested in indignation.

"Fine, misled them, then," he teased. Brennan sniffed in outrage, not having the argument to justify herself. "I'm proud of you, Bones," Booth said with a smile. His tone was light, but his words were meant seriously.

"Was there any other reason you needed to speak to me?" she asked pointedly, wanting to change the topic away from her supposed lies/misleading behaviors.

"I wanted to make sure that you're taking the proper precautions with your safety," he said. Brennan debated whether or not to tell him about the note she had received. She didn't want to worry Booth unnecessarily, but she didn't want to hide anything from him, either.

"I'm being very careful, Booth," she assured him, her voice soft. "I left the lab with Jack and Angela and ate dinner in a public place. Now I'm driving back to my apartment."

"Would you consider staying somewhere else for a while?" he asked hopefully. Brennan scoffed at his suggestion and Booth knew that she wouldn't relent on this point.

"I can't allow the mere possibility that I _might_ be targeted for something that probably isn't even official yet drive me from my home," she argued viscerally. Booth sighed in defeat, but set the issue aside—for the moment. If things went down the way he feared, then he could bring it up again.

"So…why were you talking with Sweets when I called?" Booth asked to break the silence that had fallen.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, remembering for the first time since she heard Booth's voice that she had Sweets on hold the whole time, "He wanted to have an informal pack meeting."

"What for?" Booth asked skeptically.

"He said that he wanted to become acquainted on a more than professional basis," Brennan said, just as skeptically as Booth.

"Well, what have you decided to do, Alpha?" Booth asked, teasing her with the title. He could imagine Brennan's grimace as she reacted to the new title.

"I suppose we should discuss hierarchy and protection," she said reluctantly. She brightened as she had an idea. "You should attend the meeting and brief Sweets and Daisy on safety precautions," she suggested.

"What? No," he protested instantly. He was settling down on his couch with a beer and the highlights of last night's game after eating some leftovers he had nuked in the microwave. He didn't want to leave his spot to talk to Sweets and Daisy of all people.

"You said that you would be available to help me within this pack," she said, bringing up his words. Booth groaned as his visions of unwinding quietly on the couch floated out of his reach.

"Yeah," he whined, "But I meant that I was there for you, you know…" he stumbled across his words, wanting to say that he was there for her personally, but realizing that he didn't want to come out and say it, like many other unspoken words between them. He started again, "I'm there for _you_, Bones. But Sweets and Daisy are just annoying."

"Yes, I know," she stated simply. Booth smiled at her candor. "But as of today, they are members of a pack that I am responsible for, so this would be a personal favor to me, and you have to take personal favors," she said earnestly.

"Oh, all right," he grumbled, heaving himself off his comfy couch. "My beer's warm anyways."

"Good. Then we'll meet at your apartment in half an hour," she said decisively.

"Wait, my place?" he exclaimed, but before he could protest, he heard the sound of Brennan ending the call.

* * *

><p>AN: As always, I love hearing what you think!


	13. Lions, Jaguars, and Wolves   Oh My

A/N: Thanks to everyone who submitted names for the Pack! I think you'll recognize them in here. None of the names proposed in this chapter came from my brain. Every one of them came from the brilliant minds of the best reviewers in all of fanficdom! Thanks!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13: Lions, Jaguars, and Wolves…Oh My<strong>

"I don't know why we couldn't have had this at your place," Booth grumbled as he opened the door for Brennan.

"You were already at home, whereas I was in transit," Brennan said. "I brought some of your favorite beer as a thank you." She set her heavy workbag and the beer down on the small kitchen table, then swept into the living room area. It was cluttered, but not messy, and she nodded in approval.

"Well, thank you," Booth said sarcastically, inspecting the beer. It was, indeed, his favorite, but it hardly seemed like enough for hosting what had to be the world's strangest pack in his home.

"I really appreciate this," she said in a softer tone, knowing that he was a very private person, and his home was his sanctuary. She could tell that his den was in his bedroom, just from the dense smell. She actually found the powerful smell quite comforting, and seeing that she was in an unknown situation she didn't want to be in with potentially dangerous consequences, she wanted to feel safe and comforted. That, and not her excuse that she was traveling, was the real reason she chose his home as the meeting place.

"I just don't like the idea of the baby shrink coming here and…shrinking things in my house," Booth grumbled. He held on to his ire for a while longer, although it was being eroded quickly by Brennan's words and her trusting look.

"I think Sweets will leave your possessions alone," she said.

"Oh, yeah? Can you guarantee that?" he asked sarcastically. She looked startled for a moment as a revelation came to her.

"I think I can," she stated in slow-dawning surprise. She blinked at Booth, processing her realization. Booth smiled elatedly as her meaning became clear to him as well.

"Because you're his Alpha now," he said. He smirked as he thought of all the applications of their realization. "He has to do what you say or get kicked out."

"Although I would never 'kick him out' if he didn't want to leave," Brennan said. Booth grinned at her.

"But he doesn't know that," he said in delight.

"That is true," she said with a mischievous light in her eyes.

Booth felt a little better about having the kid in his home if Brennan could muzzle him. As long as he didn't comment on anything in any way, Booth would be satisfied with the arrangement, even though he wasn't happy about it. Booth could tell that his partner had relaxed the moment she had walked in the door, bleeding tension as she bantered with him. And it was endearing to see her putter around his kitchen cabinets as if she were at home. He just wished they weren't about to be interrupted by the Annoyance Twins.

"The condition of your food stocks is appalling," Brennan commented, grabbing some crackers out of his cupboard and peering inside the box. "I'm not sure how you are preparing for our shift, but I think your preparations are lacking. Do you have any cheese?"

Booth pulled open his fridge and handed her a hunk of cheese wrapped in a plastic baggie. Booth winced as he saw the blue mold on the corner. She wrinkled her nose and gave it back to him. "Do you have any other options?" she asked without any hope of a positive answer.

"Maybe if you told me what you were looking for," he grumbled, embarrassed by the state of his pantry. In his defense, they had been working long hours and it was easier to eat out or order takeout than keep his kitchen stocked with food.

"I had hoped that you would have some finger foods on short notice to go with the beer," she said, sighing as she looked into the refrigerator.

"Wait, I have to share my beer too?" he said, possessively laying a hand on the package. "I thought it was a thank you."

"It is," she said, throwing out a rotten onion and a pint of Half & Half that was long past its expiration date. She pulled the lunchmeat out of the drawer, but wrinkled her nose at the brand of processed meat. She turned away from the fridge and moved on to the next cupboard. "I told Sweets to bring the beer for this meeting. You can keep these for yourself."

Brennan breezed through his kitchen, compiling a small tray of snacks. She brushed past Booth, and her body pressed lightly against his in the doorway, pleasantly distracting them both before she moved on, keeping busy. It took Booth longer than it should have to see that Brennan was hiding something with her bustling. She wanted to fill the time with something other than silence and the chance that he would catch onto her. When he finally realized that she wasn't meeting his eyes and that she kept glancing over to her workbag each time she passed it, he stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. "What aren't you telling me, Bones?" he asked firmly. She tried to act ignorant, but now that he knew what to look for, her evasions were clear. "C'mon, Bones," he cajoled, "We're partners."

She sighed, knowing that trying to keep the note from her partner was foolish. She didn't know how to make him keep it in perspective while acknowledging that she had the means to take care of herself.

"Bones, the longer you wait to tell me, the more nervous I get," he warned. Brennan sighed and shifted her weight uncomfortably, realizing that nothing she could say or do would make Booth less inclined to slap 24-hour protection on her. Reluctantly, she crossed the small kitchen to retrieve the evidence bag that contained the note.

"I found this on the windshield of my car," she said, holding it out awkwardly. He slowly took it from her with a suspicious look on his face.

"What is this?" he asked, flipping it over in his hand. He moved the card over to a clear spot on the evidence bag and saw the message. "When did you find this?" he asked angrily.

"This evening," she said calmly.

"Damn it, Bones," he said wearily, his anger at her draining out of him. "Why didn't you tell me when you found it?"

"It's not a threat, Booth," she said cautiously, seeing his dramatic change in demeanor, but not knowing how to interpret it. "I didn't want to concern you."

"Bones, I care for you," he said without thinking. He amended it quickly, "I care about your safety, as your partner. And I need to know immediately when stuff like this happens."

"I could have kept this from you, but I didn't," she said defensively.

"I know," he said, realizing that her self-sufficient streak could have easily meant that she might have tried to handle it for herself. "I'm glad you didn't, believe me. But what if something had happened to you? It might not be a direct threat, but you can't take this lightly, considering who you are dealing with."

"I don't take it lightly," she protested, "I was careful to check for tampering."

"That's not enough!" he said, his anger seeping back into his frame as he thought about all that could happen that he couldn't prevent.

"Then tell me what _would_ be 'enough' by your definition of the word," she said, her calm voice maddening him further. A muscle in Booth's jaw twitched as he tried to contain his fear for her and anger at whoever would even _think_ about harming her.

With his usual impeccable timing, Sweets timidly knocked on the door. Booth's nostrils flared and he made an incredible effort to calm himself. It didn't work as well as he would have liked as he flung the evidence bag onto the counter and stomped to the door. He managed to open the door civilly, but he couldn't manage any better than a neutral expression as he greeted Sweets and Daisy.

"Come in," he said, almost growling.

"Thank you for inviting us to your home," Daisy gushed, "I can't imagine living above a liquor store. It must be exciting!"

"Where should I put this?" Sweets said, staggering under his load. Booth took the beer out of his hands and set it on the counter, thumping it down harder than it deserved. Sweets handed the other brown bag to Brennan, grinning broadly at her.

"Thank you so much, Dr. Brennan," he said gratefully as she studied the bag in her hands. She opened it to see an ornately emblazoned book bound with navy blue leather-like material.

"What is this?" she asked, lifting the thick book out of the bag. Opening it, she saw that it was filled with superior, heavy paper and all the pages were blank. She closed it and studied the cover again. It had an ornate gold emblem on the front with a detailed image encircled by what Brennan recognized as unfurled fern leaves. The image contained four animals, two in the foreground with the other two behind. The largest, most prominent was the stylized image of a jaguar, outlined in gold so that it stood out against the blue background. A lion with a long mane, completely in gold, was positioned slightly behind the jaguar, highlighting it as it watched the jaguar's back defensively. Slightly behind the jaguar and lion were two Northern Gray Wolves, howling in unison.

"It looks like it should be a hood ornament," Booth commented, studying the gold emblem with distaste.

"It's the pack journal," Daisy said eagerly. "And since this is the first pack meeting, we can all sign it and write our laws and stuff."

"This shows planning and forethought," Brennan said suspiciously, "You didn't conceive of this in one day."

"Oh, Lance and I have thought about this for ages!" Daisy said, hugging her mate's arm lovingly and looking at her mentor with an unsettling mixture of awe and respect. "We've hoped this day would come."

Booth couldn't brush off the feeling that he and his partner had been manipulated. Although he wasn't officially an Alpha of this little pack, he had promised Brennan that he was there for her and for her pack. And he held to his promise. They were all at his place for this little shindig, weren't they? But he didn't like the feeling that Sweets and Daisy had maneuvered them into the spot where he and Brennan believed that it was the only way to get their friends out of the mess they were in.

"Was this your grandfather's?" Sweets asked, looking at an old clock above the hood on the stove.

"Bones, explain the rules to them," Booth growled. "I'm going to…" he began. He couldn't actually think of something he needed to do, but he finished anyways, not wanting to deal with Sweets and Daisy while he was still fuming about the note left on Brennan's car and confused about whether Sweets and Daisy were maneuvering them to be a pack. "I'm going to go get something from the bedroom. It will take a minute."

"Wait, what rules?" she asked in confusion, her nose crinkling adorably.

"You know, the house rules," he said, gesturing to his belongings.

"Is that the same as the house rules for dominoes where I had to begin the game with a deficit of points because I questioned your intellect before the game?" she asked. Sweets snickered, and Booth took a moment to glare at him before answering.

"Those are the house rules for dominoes. Tell them about the house rules specifically for them…I mean, specifically for guests," he said. At her blank look, he clarified, "What we talked about before. Sheesh, Bones."

"Oh, very well," she said. She turned to the young couple standing expectantly in the kitchen and bluntly announced, "Booth doesn't want you to communicate any of your psychological observations about his possessions or his home. As Alpha, I will enforce that rule." Turning back to Booth, she said, "Does that make you feel more comfortable?"

"Fine," he grumbled, finally escaping and retreating to his den where he felt the most comfort.

Brennan ushered her new pack members into the small living room and asked them to sit, offering them the snacks she had collected and the beer that Sweets had brought.

"This is amazing, Dr. Brennan," Sweets said as he took a cracker with a slice of lunchmeat folded on top. "I don't know an Alpha who would go through this much trouble for an informal pack meeting."

"It wasn't trouble," Brennan said. Being who she was, it wasn't a polite saying, but just stated as a fact.

"This is like the beginning of the rest of our lives," Daisy said, bouncing a little where she sat. "I heard someone say that in a commencement address, but in this case it's very true. This is a turning point in our lives, isn't it Lance?"

"It sure is," he agreed, rubbing noses with his mate. Brennan looked mildly disgusted, but she couldn't chide them for being unprofessional outside the workplace since they were outside of a work environment, so she kept quiet.

"Shall we start?" Brennan said when they had both taken a beer and turned their attention to her.

"Don't you want to wait for Agent Booth?" Daisy said, looking longingly at the closed bedroom door.

"I don't see why we should," Brennan said, frowning a little as she thought through it rationally. "He is not part of the Pack, so we wouldn't need his presence to begin."

"I thought…" Sweets began, but stopped as Brennan's cool, detached look focused on him. He lowered his eyes submissively, which made Brennan blink in confusion at his sudden silence.

"You thought what, Dr. Sweets?" she asked briskly.

"I thought that Agent Booth was a part of the Pack without, you know, being part of the Pack," he explained hesitantly.

"That statement made no sense," Brennan stated.

"Well, he is the type of person who wouldn't let his mate…I mean his partner…ummm…" he stumbled. "I don't think he would make you do this on your own. He would be the other half of the Alpha pair without actually being on the papers."

"He has offered to help me if I need it, but he is not part of the Pack," she said. "And we are not an alpha mating pair because we are only partners. If you do not have any other concerns, we will get started."

Without ceremony, she picked up the navy blue Pack Log and a pen, marking the first page with the date followed by her name and title as Pack Alpha in her graceful handwriting. She handed the book to Daisy on her right. Daisy stared at the page for several unbelievable moments before signing her own name underneath Brennan's. Sweets followed suit, signing his name with a feeling of awe.

"Now I think we should take the oath to our new pack and to our Alpha," Sweets said with ceremonial fervor. He and Daisy stood up very straight and raised their right hands while Brennan looked on, confused at their actions.

"What is this? Girl Scouts?" Booth said as he came out of the bedroom and saw the duo standing in front of Brennan like kids in front of a troop leader. "We're not the kind of group that needs oaths, Sweets."

As he came into sight from the hallway, Daisy immediately straightened and brightened.

"I'm so glad that you are able to be part of the Pack, Agent Booth, even if it is only unofficially," she said exuberantly. Booth ignored her and acted as if he hadn't heard anything.

"Go ahead and sit down. This isn't summer camp," Booth ordered. They did, sitting in unison and folding their hands in their laps.

"I believe our next order of business should be…" Brennan began, only to be interrupted by Booth.

"Safety," he stated emphatically. His lips thinned as he thought about the letter again. "Bones has already received a threatening letter earlier this evening."

"Dude, seriously?" Sweets asked in disbelief, staring first at Booth, then Brennan in shock and awe.

"Why would we fabricate that, Dr. Sweets?" Brennan asked, genuinely confused at Sweets' disbelief. Booth glared at Sweets for interrupting while he was in a bad mood. Properly cowed, Sweets sat back in his seat on the worn couch and vowed to himself to keep as quiet as he could until he could lend his expertise.

"I believe that although Bones will receive the majority of the threats because she is the challenging Alpha, your former Alpha will take advantage of any methods of intimidation against you as well," Booth explained. "Therefore, each person will utilize the buddy system."

"Like when you go swimming, always take a buddy?" Sweets asked.

"That seems excessive," Brennan commented, mentally going through her schedule. "Having someone with me at all times would hamper the productivity of my day."

"It doesn't have to be the same person all day, Bones," Booth said impatiently. "For example, when I drop you off at work, Daisy will be your buddy while you're at the lab."

"And Sweets will be your buddy while you're at work?" Brennan asked. Booth's eyes slid over to Sweets, sitting primly beside Daisy on the couch like he was a nine year old visiting some of his parents' grownup friends.

"I don't need a buddy," Booth announced, mentally wincing at the thought of having the psychologist follow him around all day.

"But Sweets would need a buddy," Brennan pointed out logically. "After all, both the male and the female water fowl of the same species have similar needs."

"What?" Booth said, completely thrown off his train of thought while attempting to figure out her mangled example.

"I believe she means 'what's good for the goose is good for the gander,'" Daisy said helpfully. She and Sweets were watching the bickering session like spectators at a tennis match, their gaze moving back and forth between the partners as they argued.

"That's what I said," Brennan said in annoyance. "Sweets would need to have a buddy, just like Daisy and I would be buddies, according to your system. And the logical answer is to assign Sweets as your buddy."

"Bones, he's in the FBI building. He'll be safe," he argued.

"Well, the lab has security provided by the FBI, so I should be safe as well," Brennan contended. Booth stepped closer to her, intending to intimidate her, but that strategy had never worked before and continued to fail. She met him toe-to-toe, eye-to-eye, like always.

"Lab security is for keeping curious museum visitors out of the way, Bones," he scoffed.

"And yet the Jeffersonian contracts out to the FBI. And the FBI believes that the security in the lab is adequate for the high profile cases we are required to handle," she fired back to him, looking on smugly as he struggled to find a response.

"That's not the issue here," he said, not wanting to get bogged down in a useless argument. "Having a buddy with you is the lesser of the evils in terms of security measures."

"I was talking about _your_ 'buddy,'" she said. "And if you require each of us to have a buddy during the day, then you should have one as well."

"Fine," Booth said, relenting ungraciously to her demands.

"Fine," she repeated.

"That will be fun, Agent Booth," Sweets said eagerly. Booth shot him a disgruntled look, but didn't say what he was thinking.

"The 'buddy system,' as you refer to it, actually has a strong tradition in Pack culture," Brennan informed them. "Going about in pairs has been a defense against spontaneous shifting without an alpha for thousands of years. There are very few 'lone wolves' who insist on being outside the traditional Pack structure because of this reason."

Booth rolled his eyes, but filed the info away for future reference. It never hurt to remember what she had told him. "Then you should really be more receptive to the idea, then, shouldn't you? Since I have tradition on my side," he snarked. Then he pushed his brain back on track and laid out the rest of his temporary security measures, making sure that each person understood what to do and who to contact throughout the day. Brennan sent him her schedule via her phone, grumbling the entire time about "overbearing alpha males."

After that was settled, although neither Brennan nor Booth was happy with the compromises they had made, Daisy turned the topic to Pack names.

"Nothing like The Terminators or Praying Mantises," Booth said, making a face as he pronounced both of those.

"Of course not," Brennan said, wrinkling her nose. "Those names are ridiculous. I would suggest something simple. Perhaps Pack Brennan."

"Show some creativity, Bones," Booth whined.

"What about Lions, Tigers, and Wolves?" Sweets asked.

"Oh, my," Daisy added with a giggle. Booth rolled his eyes as Brennan stared in confusion.

"There are neither lions nor tigers in this clan," Brennan said blankly.

"It's a movie reference, Bones," Booth explained. "They're kidding." He glared at them a little until they both nodded in agreement.

"I suppose we could choose a name that reflects the unique quality of our membership," she said thoughtfully. "However, I am exercising my authority as Alpha and retaining the right to veto any name that does not appeal to me."

"That's fair," Sweets said. He took out a small pen and notepad from his jacket pocket and flipped to a page in the middle. "What about Animus?" he asked. Both Brennan and Booth looked at Sweets like he had suggested a dirty word as the Pack name.

"The word 'animus' has negative connotations," Brennan said. "It means hostility or ill feeling."

"It's also a psychological concept…" Sweets protested weakly, "The concept of 'soul…'"

"Definitely a veto," Booth told him. Sweets sadly crossed it off the list and Daisy bounced excitedly in her seat.

"Mine's next," she informed them. "Manus?"

Brennan looked at her hand. "Is there a reason you would name our pack after the forelimb of a vertebrate?"

"Well, hand-to-hand? And you've given us a hand up," she explained timidly. "Well, I suppose it wasn't the best choice. It sounded nice, though."

"Next," Booth said bemusedly.

"What about Praetor?" Sweets asked after crossing out Daisy's pick.

"Now we're into Roman officials?" Booth asked incredulously. "What happened to normal names?"

"Well, what about Tooth and Nail? Or some variation of it…something like…Mandible and…Hammer?" Sweets said a little desperately.

"Pass," Booth said.

"Wait, I'm the one with veto powers, Booth," Brennan said, "Not you."

"Sorry, Alpha," Booth said facetiously. "Do you approve of Mandible and Hammer?"

"Veto," she said simply. Booth huffed out a laugh.

"You could always go with the Brain and Heart Brigade," he told her.

"Brigade?" she repeated questioningly.

"With them? Yeah, it's definitely a brigade," Booth commented, looking at the young couple on the couch. Brennan leaned toward him and whispered in his ear.

"Is that one of those things that should just be ours?" she asked. "You're the one who told me what's between us should just be ours."

Booth smiled, delighted that she thought of it as "theirs." He whispered back, "It's whatever you want, Bones."

"It is a good name," she said hesitantly.

"Then add it to the 'maybe' list," he suggested pragmatically. She nodded, pleased to go about this in a logical manner.

"Well, do you have any other suggestions?" she asked, looking at Sweets and his notebook. He and Daisy both nodded rather shyly.

"Just one more, but it's our favorite," Daisy said. "We came up with it together."

"Well, let's hear it," Booth said.

"Family Felidae," Sweets said proudly.

"Because you've let us be your family," Daisy explained to Brennan. Booth's cynical gaze softened as he watched Brennan react. Her emotions were subtle on her face, but it was obvious to him that she was touched by the mention of family. For her part, Brennan was biting her tongue, hoping to say the right thing. The word "family" was a word filled with meaning for everyone in the room, in one way or another, and it was critical to her that she find the right words.

"Are you certain?" she asked, her voice slightly husky. "The name wouldn't reflect the fact that the majority of the members of the Pack are canine, not feline."

"We're sure, Dr. Brennan," Sweets answered. "It would be an honor to be named after our Alpha in some way."

"And it's funny because it's a play on words. Get it? Felidae? It's the family of the cats, like you," Daisy chirped, ruining the special moment between all of them. Booth rolled his eyes.

"I think they get it, sugar muffin," Sweets told her, squeezing her fingers.

"Well, if there are no objections, our official Pack name will be changed to Family Felidae," Brennan said, her voice regaining her professional tone. She looked around the room at the strange family that she was the head of and waited for someone to speak.

"No objections," Booth said with a faint smile as he spoke for them all. Daisy and Sweets wore matching beaming grins.

"Very well," she said, clearing her throat. She took the gaudy Pack book and wrote the new pack name neatly under their signatures. Daisy gave a little squeal of happiness and hugged her mate.

After a few moments of watching the celebration between the young couple and the quiet satisfaction from Bones, Booth glanced at the clock. It was getting late and as much as he liked seeing the psychologist and the mini-squint happy, he wanted them to go to their own place. He also wanted to talk with his partner alone.

"Well, it's way past your bed times, so we'll have to table any other discussions for later," Booth said, trying to shoo the young couple out the door.

"But we haven't discussed working conditions, or the complications of multiple species of shapeshifters together in a single pack," Brennan protested.

"And it's something that can wait," Booth said decisively. Sweets was more sensitive to the command in Booth's voice than the others and started to gather his things to leave, Daisy following his lead.

"Thank you for your hospitality," Sweets said to Brennan. He realized his mistake and turned to Booth. "Thanks for letting us use your home for our Family Felidae Pack meeting."

Booth could see the giddy grin behind Sweets' words and he softened, knowing that the feeling of belonging was powerful. "I'll see you tomorrow, Sweets," he said, ushering them to the door. "Be careful on your way home." He closed the door firmly behind them and turned the lock.

"I'll clean up here and I'll go home as well," Brennan said, putting her words into actions by tidying up the small kitchen.

"I'd prefer it if you stayed here for a few nights," Booth said, crowding her as she closed the cupboard door. He meant it in more ways than one, he realized. Not just for her safety. He was becoming addicted to the smell of her scent in his den. _But the most important reason_, he reminded himself sternly, _is her wellbeing_.

She frowned and crossed her arms. "I don't want an imaginary threat to disrupt my schedule more than it already has," she told him in no uncertain terms.

"It's not imaginary," Booth said tightly. He felt a tightness in his chest at the thought of her being hurt. It felt almost like the wrenching pain of a shift when he thought about life without her, as if his body were turning inside-out. He wanted to step closer, but if he was any closer to her, she would be in his arms. Not a bad idea…but it might scare her away when he needed her close.

"An elusive threat, then," she corrected, pushing past him to reach the empty bottles on the table. He didn't know what caused him to reach out, but he suddenly found Brennan pressed to his chest, her hands lightly resting on his biceps. They both blinked a little in surprise at their position, but Booth pressed his advantage while she was trying to process the change.

"Elusive or not, the threat is very real, Bones," he said. "It might be a good idea to lay low for a while until Delgado's pride doesn't hurt so much at you being a better Alpha than he was."

Brennan had trouble refuting his words. She was an excellent debater, but she found that her arguments wouldn't coalesce in her mind. His comforting scent was overpowering, just like the man himself, and it made her thoughts whirl in her mind. His musculature was extremely defined and her hands itched to trace the delineations all over his body. Slowly, as if in a trance, her hands inched up to his broad shoulders and down to his wide chest. His scent washed over her, setting her at ease and thrilling her at the same time. His scent…

His scent! His scent had changed. She snapped her eyes away from his lips to meet Booth's gaze. He looked ready to devour her. His eyes were so light brown as to be dark honey, but his iris was almost completely drowned out by the inky black pupil. His hold on her arms had gone from a tight grip to a caress, and Brennan added those puzzle pieces to Daisy's comment from earlier in the day.

"Wait," Brennan said, pushing away a little. She didn't earn as much breathing room as she had hoped. His smell was all around her, swallowing her up in an aroused, bewildered state.

"What's wrong?" Booth asked, sounding hazy himself.

"I believe we are responding to mating scents," Brennan said, trying to regulate her breathing to a slower rate. She began to push away from her partner, but her body wouldn't respond to her commands as she pressed her palms flat against his chest.

"Mating scents?" he rumbled, his nostrils flaring as he breathed in her exotic scent.

"Yes," she said breathlessly, "Pheromones that signal to another shapeshifter that the individual is ready to mate."

"Wait, what?" he asked, snapping out of the daze at her scientific words. His gaze sharpened on her face, taking in her dilated pupils, flushed cheeks, and slightly parted lips. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from kissing her.

"It's a logical assumption," she continued. "We are very attractive alpha shapeshifters who are in almost daily contact, and that's bound to cause simple biological imperatives to manifest. But we're partners," she said hurriedly. Her face showed her disappointment at missing something that she never actually had to begin with.

"Yeah," he said sadly. He cleared his throat and finally found the strength to drop his arms from her waist as she moved her hands away from his chest. He repeated in a stronger voice, "Yeah. Partners."

"We are simply responding to the increased adrenaline caused by a tense situation," she rationalized, shrugging one shoulder awkwardly.

"Sure, Bones," he said, stepping backwards and crossing his arms across his chest. "But we're professionals."

"Exactly," she said with more animation, "And contrary to Sweets' unsubstantiated theories, we are able to compartmentalize."

"We've been doing that for years," Booth admitted. He was having trouble locking down on his emotions now, though. He tried to call up all the techniques that had served him well in the past, but he felt like he was coming up empty. And he was uncomfortably aware that he was on the edge of shifting. Unfortunately, the best way he had found to calm his need to shift was pacing away from him, looking spooked.

"And this also explains your irrational need to keep me safe from threats that have yet to materialize," she said, her voice regaining a little of its professional tone.

"Now wait a minute," Booth protested. "It's not an 'irrational need.'"

"Well, what would you call it?" she asked, setting her hands on her hips.

"It's just good sense," he told her. "I'm trying to have you take proper precaution."

"Based on your 'gut feeling,'" she said derisively.

"Based on prior experience," he shot back. "The FBI has its suspicions about Delgado, and I'm not going to let you ignore them to make your life more convenient!"

"I've already said that I would take precautions, Booth," she argued.

"I know, Bones," Booth said tiredly. "But you aren't convinced that this is a serious threat."

"I don't discount your fears…" she said, shifting her weight.

"My fears…!" he sputtered.

"…but I believe that your emotions are clouding your judgment where I am concerned," she said calmly. Booth winced at her reasonable statement. He could admit to himself that it was likely true. He only felt a small, hardly mentionable fear for Sweets and Daisy, even though they were possibly in danger as well. But his fear of Brennan being hurt was overwhelming. But did it mean that his suspicions were ungrounded? Were you still paranoid if they really were out to get you?

"Bones…" he began, but she pressed her advantage.

"I agreed to your security measures as you proposed them. I did not agree to more," she said with a finality in her voice that made it difficult to argue with her.

"Alright," he said reluctantly. "But you have to call me when you get to your place. Otherwise I'll call your doorman and make a fuss," he warned.

"I accept your terms," she said. She took her workbag and placed it on her shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow, Booth."

"Tomorrow, Bones," he said softly. He watched her walk down the hall to the stairs, his heart a heavy weight in his chest. When she was out of sight, he closed his door and saw the evidence bag lying on his counter. Picking it up, he studied it for a few long moments, the feeling of dread growing as his partner's scent started to fade.

He hoped that he hadn't made a decision that would ultimately hurt his partner.

* * *

><p>AN: To julianne: I wish I could have answered your question directly because I loved your review, but I suppose now anyone who was curious about where this story came from but didn't ask can now find out along with you. :)

Although I've made up most of the details about the alternate universe that they're a part of, I admit that I have also been influenced by a variety of sources. I've read a ton of fantasy/sci-fi novels, including many that have werewolves/shapeshifters of some kind. But ultimately I think the idea for this story came indirectly from a quote from Kat Richardson's novel _Underground _where a character, when asked if he is a werewolf, denies it and explains "If someone were to change from human to wolf, he'd have to make a whole lot of physical changes very rapidly, shedding or gaining mass and using up a ton of energy. There just isn't enough elasticity in the system to allow it..." He says more, but it made me wonder what type of change would be possible. Once I started figuring out the shapeshifter's world...well...my obsession with BONES wouldn't let me write it with original characters. Hope that answers your question. Thanks for asking!

I've also received some questions about when Brennan and Booth were going to shift. I have a question in return. Would you like me to include a detailed description of their shift or should I just concentrate on B&B? Your choice! Let me know.


	14. Unraveling Evidence

A/N: Thank you so much for your input!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14: Unraveling Evidence<strong>

Brennan got out of Booth's government vehicle the next morning and shut the door with a thud that was only slightly less than a slam. Both partners were in bad moods and annoyed with each other, and both felt that the other was to blame for their bad mood.

Booth hadn't slept well, his mind circling around several terrible scenarios that kept him restless and awake and left him in severe pain the next morning. His over the counter medication combined with as much coffee as he could hold had barely dulled the edge. The face that greeted him in the mirror that morning looked gaunt and his eyes looked very deep set in their sockets. Fighting with Bones over safety was taking a toll on him.

Brennan found that Booth's irrationality had crept into her subconscious and had left her jumping at every shadow in her apartment. The meditative deep breathing exercises that usually let her push her problems away had failed during the night, and even her daily yoga exercises that morning had not been as therapeutic as she had hoped. While makeup and coffee had helped her to regain her composure, she still hadn't been able to be sociable to Booth.

Their morning drive to the Jeffersonian had not been pleasant.

Brennan began to stalk away from the SUV toward the lab, but she turned slightly when Booth rolled down the passenger side window. "Remember, call me if you plan on leaving the Jeffersonian," he said obnoxiously for the fourth time that morning.

"I believe you need to return to your 'buddy,'" she said, knowing that it would annoy him. Booth scowled at the thought of Sweets waiting for him at the Hoover building. Sweets had already called him twice over the course of the morning, taking the order to keep in touch by phone to the extreme in Booth's opinion. He was not happy to spend the day with the chipper Sweets.

"I'll see you at noon," he said grumpily, and drove away with a screech of tires.

Brennan breezed past museum security and stopped to sign into the lab while the security team assured her that they had received Booth's instructions as to her safety. She gave them a haughty glare as she sailed through the doors of the Medico-Legal Lab. Her first stop in the quiet building was her office, where she found a file waiting for her. It contained some of Hodgins' notes, but there were several pages missing from the results, making the information in the folder useless to her. Thinking that some of the pages might have been left in the Ookie room, she made her way there and found a blurry-eyed Hodgins at his workstation.

"When did you arrive, Dr. Hodgins?" she asked in surprise when he looked up.

"Around 6:30," he said sleepily. Brennan blinked, her mind working quickly through the train of logic.

"Have you found something of interest in the case?" she asked eagerly, her earlier mood forgotten in the light of a new lead. She didn't question the reason he had come so early despite the aberration in his usual pattern.

Hodgins yawned and knuckled his eye. "I have some results on the particulates from the ribs," he said sleepily.

"Yes, you left me an incomplete evaluation in my folder," she said, showing him the chart that only contained pieces of the compounds left on the bones.

"Oh," he said, squinting at the page. "Yeah, sorry about that. It's just that Angela woke up with terrible heartburn and couldn't go back to sleep, so that meant that I couldn't go to sleep, and then she decided that we could spend our time better at work, and then she went to sleep on her couch because she sleeps better here nowadays than at home, and I thought I could get some work done in the meantime, but it seems that I'm not functioning at 100 percent…"

Brennan watched his rambling curiously. Hodgins trailed off, looking through the mass of papers on his desk. He came up with a handful of reports that looked a match and refreshed his tired memory before handing them to Brennan.

"As you can see, there are several tannins, as well as fragments of iron hydroxide and more than a trace of polybutadiene," Hodgins said, not stumbling over the scientific words even though his sentences sounded a tad mushy around the edges as they came out of his tired mouth.

"From the markings on the ribs, I had already determined that a heavy boot or shoe was the cause of the damage," Brennan responded. "Leather, steel rust, and synthetic rubber would be consistent with my analysis."

"Yes, but these particulates will help us determine the _type_ of shoe," Hodgins defended, becoming a little more animated despite his exhaustion.

"Have you been able to narrow it down?" she asked, looking closer at the information.

"Not yet," he said, losing some of his new-found energy. He tapped halfheartedly at his keyboard and didn't bother to straighten his posture as Cam walked into his office.

"Wow," Cam said with a sarcastic twist in her manner. "All my team is here before the workday officially starts. That means I'll expect a progress report early today."

"You'll get it when you get it," Hodgins said irritably.

"What is it with all the grouchy people today?" she asked rhetorically. "First Booth bites my head off because I told him that the security cameras on the parking deck only cover entrances and exits, and now you, Dr. Hodgins."

"I've been working since 6:30 while Angela slept in her office," he explained in a slightly more conciliatory tone.

"I suppose I could look the other way if you decide to close your eyes for a bit today," Cam said softly, her maternal instincts rising to the top. She added sternly, "But I still expect your report sometime this morning since you left yesterday without submitting one."

"It'll get to you," Hodgins grumbled. Cam turned to Brennan as Hodgins moved back to his computer.

"I hear that congratulations are in order," she began. Brennan started at her impassively as she worked to understand her colleague's statement. "You must be a proud parent," Cam said with an amused smile.

"What did I miss?" Angela asked with glee as she walked into her husband's office. She looked from her boss to her friend in delight. "You and Booth are going to be parents?"

"What? No…I…no one even mentioned Booth," Brennan stuttered as she rushed to correct her best friend's mistaken assumption. "And I am neither pregnant nor am I planning to become so. I have not engaged in sexual intercourse in some time." She finished her explanation as she regained her composure.

"I had a visit from a very exuberant Daisy Wick informing me that you are now her Pack Leader," Cam explained dryly.

"I fail to see the reason why that would lead you to believe I am somehow a parent," Brennan said sharply, embarrassment making her short with Cam.

"Isn't that the job of a Pack Leader?" Cam asked, still amused at the situation.

"No, you're simply misrepresenting the situation," Brennan made clear to her interested audience. "The Alpha of a Pack could be the patriarch or matriarch of the clan, but that is not always the case."

"Well, whatever the case may be, I now have to set into place outside verifications in our lab work so that Daisy Wick will not be treated differently than the other interns," Cam explained.

"Thank you, Dr. Saroyan," Brennan said.

"In the meantime, we'll have to deal with some heightened security," Cam told the waiting room.

"Is this somehow connected to the note left on Dr. B's car?" Hodgins asked in concern.

"Dr. Saroyan, this is unnecessary," Brennan complained.

"I agree with Booth's assessment that extra security is needed, and since I'm the ringleader in this circus, what I say goes," Cam stated briskly.

"As long as the heightened security does not interfere with my work," Brennan said as she took the papers that Hodgins had gathered for her and neatly stacked them in her folder before turning to leave. "Dr. Hodgins, please inform me if you make any progress on narrowing down the type of shoe worn by the attacker."

"Send everything to me first!" Cam said loudly. Brennan left without acknowledging her words. Cam muttered as she left, "It's not like I've had the same policies for years or anything…"

Brennan continued to her office, but was ambushed by Daisy before she could gain sanctuary. "Dr. Brennan!" Daisy breathed, her voice more high pitched than normal. "I'm so glad that we get to spend the day together."

"The work day will progress as usual, Ms. Wick," Brennan tempered, maneuvering past her.

"Still, it feels different to me, now that we're a Pack," she chirped. "I'm so excited that I could scream." She demonstrated her excitement by letting out a little, clipped-sounding "Eeee!"

Brennan gave her a glare that brought the intern down out of the clouds a little. "Please return to your work," she said frostily.

"Of course, Dr. Brennan," Daisy said in a tone that was meant to be deep and soothing, but was bubbling over with excitement and good cheer. As Daisy left, Brennan ensconced herself behind her desk, looking for connections between the particulates Hodgins had identified and what she knew of the markings on the ribs. Bringing up the pertinent x-rays, she studied the impression made by the boot or shoe.

"Good morning, Bren," Angela said as she entered the office and plopped on the couch. She arranged the cushions to her liking behind her back while she watched her friend with bright, curious eyes. "So how is your Alpha-of-the-Pack-thingy going? Did you talk to Sweets and Daisy?"

"Yes, we had a Pack meeting last night," she said distractedly. She squinted at the x-rays on her computer, increasing the magnification as much as the resolution allowed. She asked Angela, "Do you think you could use the imprints on the x-rays to create a digital model of the object that struck the ribs on the two victims?"

Angela grunted as she moved off the couch to look at the computer screen. "I suppose I could take a stab at it," she said with a sigh. "But you owe me details in return."

"Details of what?" she asked innocently as they walked to the artist's office.

"Details of you and Booth playing mommy and daddy together," Angela teased.

"Angela…" she whined in exhausted exasperation. Her friend snickered, getting a kick out of how irritated Brennan was growing.

"Well, if you told me what happened, I wouldn't have to speculate, Bren," she told her easily, gripping her friend's arm lovingly.

"That's logical," Brennan said in surprise. Angela put her hands on her hips.

"You know, pregnant women are able to think logically," she said defensively. Her voice rose shrilly. "Unlike what half the world thinks of me!"

"I'm not certain how you've deduced the thoughts of half of the world's population, but I know that you usually follow logical principles, although many times I believe that you invent new ways of thinking so that you arrive at the conclusion you want instead of an empirical conclusion," Brennan said. She handed Angela the large control pad to the Angelatron.

"That's sweet, Bren," she said, giving her a smile. Her smile turned devious and she said, "Now tell me about this Pack meeting."

Brennan reluctantly told her about the meeting while the artist worked on manipulating the x-rays to give up their secrets. Angela didn't squeal, but looked smug when she mentioned that it was held at Booth's place. Brennan's story was very factual and left out much of the interaction between her and her partner, but Angela could read in between the lines better than most.

"So what happened after Sweets and Daisy left?" she said, her sixth sense humming at Brennan's abrupt stop to the story.

"Booth and I discussed the safety precautions I should take and I left soon after," she explained in a dry tone. It didn't fool Angela for a moment.

"Uh huh," she murmured disbelievingly. "You just left."

"Yes," Brennan affirmed, "We spoke for a few minutes, but it was late and I wanted to go home."

"Uh huh," she repeated, still disbelieving. "Why do I feel like you are leaving out the parts I most want to hear?"

"I am not sure what you wanted to hear, but I have told you what occurred at the Pack meeting as per the terms of our agreement," Brennan said.

"Well, I have a few digital models of shoes that I could show you while you tell me what you've left out, or you can leave me hanging and I'll just keep these to myself," Angela said, shrugging innocently.

"Angela!" Brennan gasped. Angela simply smiled at her outrage. "This is a murder investigation, not a game."

Angela rolled her eyes at Brennan's righteous anger. "I'll make you get them from Cam, which is the way it's supposed to go anyways," she said. Brennan swayed in place a little as she weighed her options.

"Fine," she conceded, "Booth was concerned for my safety and as I was leaving we argued for a short while."

Angela wasn't impressed with the nugget of information that Brennan handed over like a miser with gold. "That wasn't what put you in this mood," she observed. "I want to know why you're so wound up today. It sure wasn't an argument with Booth that did it. You argue with Booth all the time."

Brennan pressed her lips together and finally came clean, determining that she wanted the information directly and another benefit would be that having her best friend's opinion would most likely help her sort through the various emotions she was feeling regarding Booth. She gave a short summary of their argument and actions, ending with her theory on why they had been acting out of character when in the presence of each other. "It's simply mating pheromones, Angela. There is no other reason why we should act so irrationally," she said defensively.

"Are you kidding me?" Angela exclaimed incredulously. "The universe itself is telling you that Booth is the perfect man for you and you explain it as acting irrationally? Bren, I love you. I really do. But you have to get your act together. The 'irrationality' in this little scenario is that you and Booth _aren't_ together."

"Mating pheromones signal to another shapeshifter that he or she is a physically compatible with another shapeshifter. It's a product of evolution, not some mystic force of the universe," Brennan scoffed. She ignored Angela's attempt to defend her statement and went on. "I recognize the fact that Booth and I would have offspring that would have multiple genetic advantages that would help them succeed. The urge to procreate is strong, I admit, but although Booth would be a good match for me physically, in the terms of compatibility in other areas, we are not well-matched."

Angela snorted indelicately at her friend's statement. "Don't talk to me like I'm a stranger. I've known you and Booth since the day you first met him. You're more well-matched than you think."

"We're opposite in every way," she stubbornly insisted, although she could name several ways where they thought and acted similarly.

"No, you're not," Angela said. "I mean, yeah, you have your differences, but you and Booth really get each other. That's rare, and it's much better for a relationship than simply common interests." They stared at each other, Angela mentally willing Brennan to concede, and Brennan hiding behind a calm mask. The computer beeped and they both turned to look at the image of the sole and toe of a boot on the screen. Angela hit a few buttons, bringing up information as the image spun on the Angelatron.

"Size 11 work boot," she said, reading off the screen. "The pattern of the tread matches several generic brands." She built the rest of the boot using a mixture of the styles available and her imagination.

"It's a work boot, not a hiking boot?" Brennan asked for clarification. Angela studied the list of brands thoughtfully as she typed in more information.

"Yes," she stated, "All these types of shoes are marketed for work on construction sites, farms, and other places like that. Hiking boots are lighter with thinner soles. The treads on the soles of hiking boots are also built differently."

"Could you refer this list to Hodgins and see if there is a possible match in particulates?" she asked.

"Sure, Bren," Angela said, doing exactly that.

"Thanks, Angela," Brennan said. Though it was said easily, Angela knew that her thanks covered more than sending the list to Hodgins.

"Anytime, sweetie," she responded with a smile.

"Dr. Brennan?" Daisy inquired, speaking in an unnaturally slow and deep voice. "Would you come to see this?" Angela smiled at her friend as an annoyed look passed over the anthropologist's face. Brennan steeled her features and nodded.

"What have you found, Ms. Wick?" she asked as she left.

She and Daisy worked in tandem for several hours, hunched thoughtfully over the bones of both victims. Although they accumulated a plethora of information about how the victims had lived, neither she nor her graduate student had uncovered more about the way Roberto and Maria had died. Around noon, Booth strolled through the sliding glass doors with Sweets trailing behind.

"Hey, Bones!" he said as he swiped his card to gain access to the platform.

"What are you doing here, Booth?" Brennan asked in confusion.

"We made plans to visit Luis Lopez at the hospital," he said. At her blank look he prodded her memory. "You were there, remember?"

"I remember," she said haughtily. "But we said we would go at noon. It's only…"

"…about 1 pm? Yeah, that's lunchtime in my book," he said sarcastically.

"Oh," she said in a small voice. She pulled off her gloves and deposited them in the biohazard bin as she left the platform. "Well then, I believe we should go."

Booth rolled his eyes at her attempts to regain the upper hand as if she hadn't lost track of time. "Whatever you say, Bones," he said flippantly. He turned to the door he just came through, Brennan following after him, catching up and matching him step for step. "Sweets, you stay here with your buddy."

"I thought I was going with you," Sweets whined. Booth smiled predatorily and Sweets stopped his preemptive stride following after the partners.

"You know what we agreed," Booth said firmly. "Everyone in the Pack has someone with them at all times." He half expected Sweets to stomp his foot and pout, but the psychologist had more self control than that and took his work to Brennan's office to be out of the way.

The ride to the hospital wasn't as strained as the ride that morning. Neither felt like making conversation, but they rode congenially with the radio on. Booth parked as close as he could to the busy hospital, but they still walked a good ways to the entrance in companionable silence.

"So, did you find anything else on the bones?" Booth asked as they walked to Luis's room.

"If I had found something pertinent to the case, I would have called you," she said. They stood at the elevator, watching the floor levels count down above them. Brennan broke the short silence. "Ms. Wick was very effusive in her thanks today," she commented, still looking at the floor display.

"Sweets walked around the Hoover all morning with a huge smile," Booth responded. He chanced a peek at his partner, noticing for the first time that she, too, had dark circles under her eyes. His entire being softened toward her, and he said quietly, "You're doing a good thing for them."

"I know," she said, her tone stopping on the edge of being boastful. But it wasn't a boast. It was simply the truth.

They rode the elevator quietly, Booth swaying slightly to the soft elevator music. The isolation chamber for shapeshifters was located on the hospital's top floor, and the hall was quiet as they stepped into it. At the center of the hall, an older man with cottony white hair who was dressed in blue scrubs stepped out of the room labeled "Observation."

"Excuse me, you can't be here," he said in an official manner. He had a very thick accent that Brennan thought was likely Nigerian. Booth flipped out his badge, making sure his gun was visible for maximum effect.

"Special Agent Seeley Booth of the FBI, and my partner, Dr. Brennan from the Jeffersonian," he said by rote. "Mister…?"

"Dr. Adeniji," he said briskly, emphasizing his title. "Agent Booth, May I ask what you are doing here? This is a restricted area."

"Luis Lopez is a person of interest in a double homicide," Booth said gravely, placing his badge back on his belt.

"I am Mr. Lopez's attending physician, and I can assure you that Mr. Lopez is in no condition to be interrogated by the authorities," the doctor blustered.

"We're here representing Mr. Lopez's Alphas," Brennan fabricated.

"His Alpha is already with him," Dr. Adeniji said suspiciously.

"Mr. Lopez has not responded to his registered Alpha," Booth said, frowning as he thought.

"Yes, he has," the doctor said, irritated that an FBI agent would question his word. "Mr. Delgado is with him now, and I can assure you that Mr. Lopez is responding to the suppressor pheromones. His condition has stabilized."

"Cesar Delgado is his Alpha?" Booth asked in surprise. A second after his exclamation, he realized that it made perfect sense. Luis was a young wannabe looking for somewhere to belong. And Cesar Delgado specialized in drawing in the misfits from the fractured shapeshifter community to use and abuse as he saw fit.

"Is he still in danger of a spontaneous shift?" Brennan asked.

"I believe that he is past that danger," Dr. Adeniji said. "However, we are still keeping Luis in a medically induced coma so that his body can rid itself of the anabolic steroids. We are monitoring his vital organs for damage, but we won't know the full extent of his condition until he comes out of the coma."

As they were speaking, the door to the Observation Room opened and a man in a tailored suit stepped out of the room. His clothes were ostentatious, from his white jacket to his gold tie. He had rings on many of his fingers, and his watch rivaled Brennan's in price. He was followed closely by a second man who wore an ill-fitting suit. The second man was bulky where the first was slim, but it was obvious that the man in the white suit held the authority. Booth and Brennan noticed them at the same time and simultaneously their nostrils flared as they took in the scents. Shapeshifters.

Booth narrowed his eyes as he recognized the middle-aged man in the expensive suit. "Mr. Delgado," Booth said, the name almost a growl. Booth unconsciously moved forward half a step, his lips pressed in a tight, angry line.

"Agent Booth," Delgado said, his eyes narrowing suspiciously, then returning to their half-lidded, contemptuous state. He smoothed back his black hair even though there wasn't a hair out of place. "It's a surprise seeing you here."

"It's a shame I haven't seen you in the interrogation room lately," Booth said in mock sadness. Delgado reacted infinitesimally, but Booth saw the anger locked in the other man's brown eyes. He was used to being spoken to with deference and respect, even with fear from other shapeshifters. Booth's irreverence was grating and made Delgado burn with anger. The dangerous Alpha used it to make his easy words as hard as granite.

"Tut, tut, Agent Booth," Delgado said mockingly, "I don't want to get you into any trouble for your blatant harassment of an upstanding member of the community."

"Don't worry about that, Delgado," Booth answered with a frightening smile. "We aren't here for you this time. We were concerned for Luis."

"It was kind of you to take an interest in my Pack," he said, not at all charitably. His possessive tone raised the hairs on the back of Booth's neck. "But I think you should stay out of the DC Pack's affairs. I have things well in hand."

They stared at each other with polite menace. Then Booth watched in horror as Delgado's eyes moved from him to his partner. Every muscle tensed and he bit back a sharp growl as Delgado smiled slickly.

"And this must be the beautiful Temperance Brennan," he said, reaching out his hand as if to take hers. She moved her hand out of his reach, and he dropped his hand, his smile flickering slightly. "I've heard so much about you."

Brennan shifted uneasily, knowing that there were dangerous undercurrents in the conversation and feeling frustrated that she didn't know how to navigate them. Booth was tense and anxious, his body giving off warning signals to anyone who knew how to read him. He tried to edge in front of Brennan, but his partner stood her ground.

"I hope you're taking good care of my pack members. I know how hard it is to be the Alpha of a Pack as well as having to balance your job and life outside the Pack," Delgado said with false sympathy. "If you find it overwhelming, I could always take over for such a pretty lady."

Brennan eyed him with disgust. "I am very efficient," she declared. "I'm sure I can handle any problem."

His eyes watched her rapaciously, letting his eyes roam her body. "I bet you could," he said suggestively. He drew in a deep breath, exhaling lasciviously. His pupils dilated, the black swallowing up the color, making his eyes look like a shark's blank stare. "You have the most delicate scent."

Booth growled at that statement, moving in front of Brennan in a quick motion and stalking aggressively in Delgado's direction. Delgado's companion moved to intercept the agent, putting one hand in the center of Booth's chest. "Get your hand off me if you want to keep it," Booth ground out through his clenched teeth.

"Excuse me!" Dr. Adeniji said loudly. The tableau stayed locked. Delgado and his bodyguard watched the partners while Booth and Brennan stood ready for trouble. They listened to the doctor, but the majority of their attention was focused on their opponents. "This is a hospital. If you continue to argue, you'll have to leave."

"Booth, we have work to do," Brennan said, holding her head up. The bodyguard stepped back a step, his urine-colored eyes watching Booth warily. Booth moved his gaze from Delgado to the bodyguard, dismissing the DC Pack Alpha with a contemptuous flick of his eyes and pressing the bodyguard's face into his memory. He looked familiar, although Booth was sure that he hadn't met him. The scent the bodyguard gave off was rancid enough that Booth knew he would remember. But the feeling of recognizing him still lingered.

"I would make sure that you are extra cautious about obeying the law," Booth warned the duo.

"Is that a threat?" Delgado asked, his voice menacing.

"It's just a friendly warning," Booth responded in the same tone. He turned his back to them, facing Brennan. Every hair on the back of his neck stood up uncomfortably, though he tried to act with his normal bravado. "You're right, Bones. Let's get back to work."

"Be careful, Temperance," Delgado said as they walked back to the elevator. "I wouldn't want anything to happen to such a promising young pack leader."

In the elevator, safely away from Delgado, Brennan allowed herself a little shiver.

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><p>AN: Anyone excited about what's coming? I'd love to hear from you!


	15. Perceptions

A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews, favorites and alerts! I really gain so much from your thoughts, speculations, and opinions. Thanks a million!

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><p><strong>Chapter 15: Perceptions<strong>

"I don't care what you say, Bones," Booth said argumentatively as he started the car. "You're not going to set foot out of my sight until we have Delgado taken care of."

"Booth…" Brennan began. Her partner cut her off.

"You can't say anything to change my mind," he argued.

"Booth…"

"I'm sticking to you no matter what you say."

"But…"

"And I don't care about any of your logical arguments…"

"Booth!" Brennan yelled. He quieted, his fists clenching on the steering wheel in a death grip and a muscle twitching furiously in his jaw.

"Please, Bones," he said pleadingly, not even daring to look at her.

"If you would allow me to continue…" Brennan said frostily. Booth braced for a fight. "I said that I would take precautions based on your recommendations, and I will."

"You only take the precautions that you want, and leave the rest," Booth said tensely.

"I believe you when you say that Delgado is dangerous," Brennan said softly. She shifted nervously on her seat and admitted, "Although I can take care of myself, I find that Cesar Delgado…frightens me."

"He should frighten you, Bones," Booth said, his voice calmer, though he still choked the wheel as he drove. "He's a bully with money and power. You've shown that you're stronger than he is, and he wants to destroy you."

Brennan thought about how Delgado had acted towards her. Each word aimed in her direction had been a weapon. He reminded her of Howard Epps, but even in that comparison, Epps had targeted her because of her intelligence and the challenge of the game. Delgado simply hated her because she had revealed the weakness in him.

"Stay with me for a while," Booth said hesitantly. "Or stay with Angela and Hodgins. Heck, even stay with Sweets and Daisy. Just don't go home alone at nights."

"Okay," Brennan said. She said it in such a matter-of-fact voice that he didn't process what she had said for a second. His arguments died in his mouth and he finally looked over at her. She was facing toward the window, her face pale and worried. She looked smaller, more like a teenage Brennan than the kick-ass anthropologist he knew and loved. Booth watched in amazement as she pulled herself together, the effort visible on her face. He smiled at her strength of character. She turned to him and said imperiously, "But we're staying at my place. Your home isn't well stocked with the foods that would prepare us for a shift."

"Whatever you say, Bones," Booth said with a relieved smile. He knew that she wanted some feeling of control over the situation that was quickly spiraling out of her hands. He was willing to do what it took to let her regain some equilibrium. The knot in his chest loosened and he felt like he could breathe again.

They drove to the Hoover building, stopping by Booth's office for updates before they both trekked to the Jeffersonian to pick up their "day buddies." As they walked through the bullpen and by the kitchen area, several agents spotted them together. Booth noticed their smirks and sly glances and wondered what new rumor was going around now.

"Full moon tonight," one agent said as they went by. The crowd near him laughed, and several made sounds as if they were howling at the moon. Booth rolled his eyes and then ignored them. It was the same chorus every month around the full moon. They expected him to sprout fangs and claws the moment the sun went down. It was an FBI ritual to tease him about their misconceptions every time it was brought to the forefront of their minds, just like they teased Agent Jones about his changing marital status or how they used to tease Sully about the career of the week. It was harmless. Usually.

"Why did they inform you of the lunar cycle?" Brennan asked in confusion.

"They're idiots, Bones," he responded loudly enough for them to overhear. They continued to chuckle. Booth was usually no fun to poke fun at because he refused to react to their taunts, but his foul mood made him more likely to respond.

"Looking a little hairy, Booth," an agent laughed.

"Shut your mouth, Zimmerman," Booth responded. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, don't worry. His bark is worse than his bite…literally," Agent Jones from Booth's department said. Booth frowned and walked faster.

"At least you have that pretty little wolf bitch to warm you up when you shift," another agent crudely called to them, leering at Brennan. Booth stopped in his tracks and rounded on him with murder in his eyes.

"What did you say about my partner?" he asked with quiet menace. His tolerance level for their games had reached his level and everyone in the room took a step back, both figuratively and literally. They knew that they had taken it too far by mentioning his partner.

"Just a joke," the unlucky agent mumbled. "I didn't mean anything insulting by it."

"We're just kidding around, Booth," Agent Jones muttered.

"Booth, I don't need you to defend some quixotic idea of my honor," Brennan said, placing her hand on his arm. Booth was spoiling for a fight, and any target would do at that point. But it wouldn't solve anything to fight with another agent. He let himself be pulled away.

Brennan turned to the agent that her partner was staring down and told him assertively, "And you have been misinformed. Neither Booth nor I shift into any of the canine species." Her words were glacial, as were her features. She looked at them as if she had caught them desecrating a graveyard and then disregarded them completely.

Brennan dropped her hand from Booth's arm and then simply walked to Booth's office, trusting Booth to follow her. He did, reluctantly, but his eyes raked over the agents in the small kitchen with bitter disdain before he turned his back to them. Just outside Booth's office a tech intercepted the partners.

"Hey, Booth!" he called over the noise of the bullpen.

"What?" Booth snarled. The tech looked unperturbed at Booth's irritability.

"I found that info you wanted," he said, handing Booth the papers. Booth had the grace to look ashamed of himself for biting the tech's head off for nothing.

"Thanks, man," he responded.

"Are you okay? You don't look so good," the tech said bluntly, studying Booth's features. He wondered what he looked like that made the tech ask. He couldn't imagine.

"I'm fine," Booth said, brushing him off. He didn't want to stay in the bullpen any longer, especially if the guys were going to rag him some more about the full moon.

"Well, we're working on Maria Lopez's financials. The bank's being stubborn. They say that it's not covered in the warrant, but it's not even in the same league as that Cayman Islands stuff you had us working on last month. We'll get it to you soon. You don't have to worry about it," he said politely. Booth nodded at him, feeling like a worm for snapping at him when he had been nothing but helpful.

"Yeah, well, thanks for this," he said, waving the papers slightly.

"No problem," the tech said as he walked away. Booth waited until he and Brennan were in his office before looking at the papers from the tech.

"Oh, the bastard," Booth said under his breath as he read through the pages. Despite his low curse his lips curled in a vicious smile.

"What?" Brennan asked, looking at the information over Booth's shoulder. Booth turned slightly so that she could see as the light of the chase came into his eyes. "Who is that?"

"Does he look familiar, Bones?" Booth asked, pulling out a picture. It was the same picture that John Stanton had drawn of the wolf he had seen around his place. The smug, slimy features of the wolf made Brennan wrinkle her brow in confusion.

"Should he look familiar?" she asked him, troubled that she would forget someone connected to the case.

"In a way. We met him today," Booth said.

"Is it Delgado?" she demanded. Booth gave her a fierce, edgy smile, and his glee that they were moving the case forward shone through his features.

"No, it's second best. Leo Ramones, also known as '_El Jefe_,' is Cesar Delgado's right hand man and also his bodyguard. We saw him today at the hospital," Booth told her. He let her see the driver's license picture. The grim looking man in the picture was a match for the bodyguard at the hospital, down to the smug air about him that grated on Booth's nerves.

"Luis mentioned someone named '_El Jefe_' before he began shifting," Brennan stated. "He was talking about a wolf chasing his sister, and then said, 'Ask the wolf who calls himself '_El Jefe_.'"

Booth grinned at her. "Do you think that it's enough to bring Ramones in for questioning?"

"Shall we find out?" she asked. They smiled at each other, their moods lifting at gaining some momentum in the case, until they were interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Agent Booth," Assistant Director Hacker called by way of greeting. His tone bordered on the serious, but Booth found that he couldn't take the man seriously. Hacker's reprimands sounded like a frazzled mother trying to get her rebellious toddler to eat green peas rather than an FBI leader commanding a group of intelligent agents. Hacker noticed Brennan and smiled charmingly.

"Temperance, it's a pleasure to see you," he said, pouring on the charm. Brennan smiled, flattered that he would take an interest in her. Ultimately, however, she wasn't sexually attracted to Hacker. He was pleasant company, but he didn't measure up to her standard.

Her standard spoke up. "Assistant Deputy Director Hacker," he said on the edge of mocking.

"I needed to speak with you, Booth," Hacker said, his face becoming grim again. Booth and Brennan waited and Hacker shifted impatiently. "I was hoping to talk to Booth alone."

"Whatever you say to me, you can say in front of my partner," Booth said. "And I'd appreciate if you'd make it quick. We're on our way to bring a suspect in for questioning."

"Well, since it concerns Temperance too, perhaps it would be better for her to stay," Booth's curly haired superior relented. He didn't seem inclined to begin however, so Booth impatiently led the conversation.

"What did you want to speak to me about?" he asked.

"Some people are concerned for your ability to remain objective on this case," Hacker said quickly, hoping to get it over with, like ripping off a Band-Aid. Booth looked suspiciously at Brennan because it sounded like something she would say, but she was as shocked at Hacker's statement as he was. Probably because she was included in his statement.

"May I ask why?" Brennan said before Booth could answer, sounding appalled that someone would question her ability to compartmentalize.

"Well, this case involves… Well, you know…" Hacker hem-hawed. "People with the same disability as you and Agent Booth."

Booth hid a smile. He had heard the shapeshifter virus called a disease and a genetic condition. He'd even heard it called demon possession, as well as other, less polite things, but "disability" was a new term. Hacker was increasingly uncomfortable, not looking either partner in the eye. Brennan shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she processed the information.

"When you say 'disability,' do you mean the fact that we are shapeshifters?" Brennan asked for clarification.

"Yes," he said, "You understand, Booth. A jury would look at this and see that a shapeshifter is working on a case involving dead shapeshifters. They would see any arrest you made as a prejudice on your part."

"I see," Booth said, deadpan. "So if you had a homicide agent who happened to be HIV+ working on a case where an AIDS victim that the agent had never met was murdered, you would have the same advice?"

"Well…" Hacker muttered. "You know how things are. Think of it from the prosecutor's standpoint. Even if you have not met the victims, you probably had some contact with their Pack at one point."

"I've never had any type of contact with the Lopez Pack," Booth said firmly.

"But I'm sure that your Pack…" Hacker began in a whiny tone of voice.

"If you had bothered to look, you would see that I am not a part of a Pack," Booth said coldly.

"And your partner…" Hacker protested.

"…is the Alpha of the Family Felidae Pack, which does not operate within the bounds of any other Pack or organization."

Hacker looked very annoyed for a second before his face cleared. "I wouldn't want you to jeopardize a case over this issue," he said.

"Booth and I are dedicated to our work," Brennan explained. "We would not knowingly sabotage our chances of bring justice to the victims we see in our daily work."

"I know that Caroline, or any other prosecutor who knows his stuff, could defeat any objection the defense would bring concerning our status of shapeshifters," Booth suggested. Hacker wavered under the onslaught of Brennan and Booth combined. He opened his mouth to speak again, and after a long pause, Brennan gave a suggestion.

"If you take this case away from Booth and me on the basis of our status as shapeshifters, then I'll inform the American Civil Liberties Union about the actions the FBI took regarding shapeshifters," she said calmly. Her statement swayed him, as the FBI's image didn't need to be damaged by a lawsuit and the bad publicity that went with it.

"I understand your point," Hacker said to Brennan. Booth caught movement out of the corner of his eye and saw that Agent Carlos Suarez had walked onto Booth's floor and camped in the bullpen. Booth began to get a bad feeling about where his superior was taking this. Hacker watched Booth thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded to himself. "I'm going to assign another agent with you on this case. He can provide an extra set of hands as well as an unbiased view."

"With all due respect, sir," Booth said, his voice not respectful in the least, "Bones and I work better as a team. We don't need another agent who doesn't know our methods trampling on our case."

"It's just regarding this investigation, Booth," Hacker said sternly. "This won't be a permanent assignment."

"Who's the agent?" Booth asked suspiciously, knowing exactly whose name was going to come out of his mouth.

"Agent Suarez," Hacker answered. Booth and Brennan shared a glance of trepidation.

"I asked Agent Suarez to leave the investigation because he was connected to the murder weapon," Booth protested immediately.

"That issue has been resolved, and now there is no reason that Agent Suarez can't join the investigation. He's familiar with the players and he has been monitoring the gang activity in that area. He'll make a good addition to your team," Hacker stated confidently. Booth gritted his teeth as he saw Suarez through the glass door of his office, sitting in the bullpen. He was chatting to some of Booth's people, laughing and occasionally throwing a grin towards the office.

"Yes, sir," Booth ground out. Hacker waved to Suarez and the agent jogged over to Booth's office and cockily made his way inside.

"Glad to be working with you again, Booth," Suarez said breezily, propping his hip on the edge of the desk as if he owned it. Booth gritted his teeth and smiled.

"Great," he said in a tone that was far from sincere.

"Well, now that that's settled, I'll be on my way," Hacker said, turning and leaving the office quickly. Booth muttered some dubious statements about his courage under his breath, and then turned to Suarez.

"Listen, I'll play nice, but there has to be some rules here," Booth said firmly.

"I'll be perfectly professional," Suarez responded.

"Good, see that you are," Booth said.

"You don't have to like me, Booth," he retorted, "And I don't have to like you or Dr. Brennan, but if we can get Delgado off the streets, I'll work with the devil himself to make it happen."

"I understand the sentiment, but I disapprove of your assumption that Delgado is the murderer. The facts have not ruled him out at this point, but they have not provided proof of his guilt," Brennan said. Suarez rolled his eyes at her statement and Booth shot him a disgusted look because of his disrespect.

"Whatever," the gang task force agent said, dismissing her with a flick of his hand. He addressed Booth, "What do we have?"

"Suarez…" Booth said warningly.

"Hey, no need to get defensive. I know you two are in the same Pack or Family or whatever Dr. Sweets was babbling about this morning, but there's no reason to cut me out of the loop just because you and your wolf partner here objects to the fact that I follow my instincts. I think Delgado's the murderer. So let's go after him."

"I don't know how things work in the gang task force…" Booth said, saying "gang task force" as he would have said "nursery school," "…but in the major crimes division, we go where the evidence leads. We don't go haring off on wild goose chases before we have our ducks in order. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it," he replied in annoyance, "But I can't go where the evidence leads without the evidence, can I?"

"He has a point, Booth," Brennan interjected calmly.

"Hang on," Booth said to no one in particular. He turned to his partner in shock. "You're actually suggesting that we work with this guy?"

"Well, considering the fact that your superiors in the FBI have assigned him to you, I think that you have no choice," Brennan answered logically.

"I'd've thought you'd be on my side, Bones," Booth whispered quickly.

"I do not see sides in this matter," Brennan told him.

"She's right, man," Suarez chimed in. "Don't waste our time fighting with me when we could be taking down Delgado."

"Agent Suarez…" Brennan began disapprovingly.

"Alright, alright…when we could be finding the murderer," he amended, "There, you happy?"

"Why would I be happy? Happiness involves the release of serotonin, dopamine and norepinephrine…"

"Is she serious?" Suarez asked Booth in a low voice as she continued to explain the chemistry of happiness.

"When it comes to science? Always," Booth answered.

Their moment of male bonding smoothed over some of the tension between them and the two agents eyed each other warily.

"I suppose you can come with Bones and me to pick up Ramones," Booth conceded, handing Suarez a metaphorical olive branch. "I'll fill you in on the way."

On an innate signal known only to the partners, they turned to leave, causing Suarez to hurry after them. As they walked out of the building, Booth said over his shoulder, "But Bones gets shotgun."

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><p>AN: I don't feel like this chapter is my best work, but, hey...fanfiction is all about practicing for the love of it, right? Please tell me what I did wrong and what I did right!


	16. In the Den of the Wolf

A/N: I'm very sorry that this is late. My deepest apologies to the people I accidentally lied to. I have excuses—good ones, too—but they're still just excuses for my laziness. I hope this is worth the wait. Thank you to SleeplessinBrussels for a well-timed kick to my behind to get me writing. And to answer your question, no, I'm not Irish. I'm very curious what gave you that impression, though. Now, on to the story.

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><p><strong>Chapter 16: In the Den of the Wolf<strong>

Leo Ramones lived in a large house near the edge of the city, but the agents knew that he wouldn't be there in the middle of the day. He had one job, and that job was to do whatever Delgado told him to do, no matter what fancy job title he held within the Pack. So instead of wasting their time going where he wasn't, Booth pointed his SUV towards the headquarters of the DC Pack where Delgado worked and lived.

"You really think that _El Jefe_ is the one who killed your victims?" Suarez asked, leaning as far forward in his seat as he could manage. It rankled at him that Brennan was sitting pretty in the front, but just being in the car felt like a victory, so he didn't fight against it.

"Stanton identified him in wolf form because he was watching Maria and her boyfriend," Booth said. "I'd say that's a suspicious circumstance."

"His height and weight also correspond with the force of the attack on the victims," Brennan informed him. "And Leo Ramones's shoe size is consistent with the attacker's."

"I didn't notice his shoes," Booth mused.

"How do you know all this stuff?" Suarez asked in grudging amazement.

"Through practical application of scientific principles," Brennan answered as simultaneously Booth said, "Magic."

"Even though Luis's testimony wasn't exactly rock solid, he did say that _El Jefe_ was chasing his sister," Booth said, continuing his reasoning for suspecting Ramones and ignoring Brennan's annoyed look at his comment.

"Luis said that he was protecting his sister from a wolf who was chasing her and told us to ask the wolf who called himself _El Jefe_," Brennan corrected, "He didn't say that the wolf who was pursuing his sister and _El Jefe_ were the same person."

"But if he's the least bit guilty, we're going to prosecute his ass!" Booth exclaimed harshly. Suarez looked at him suspiciously.

"Listen, man," he began in a hesitant but audacious tone, "Don't take this the wrong way, but you seem on edge. I mean more than usual."

"It's none of your business," Booth snapped. Brennan touched his arm lightly then turned in her seat to look at Suarez.

"Booth is overdue for a shift," she explained. In spite of Suarez's uncaring look, she continued, "He should have shifted months ago and the delay is causing him physical and emotional turmoil."

"We were working on a case," Booth complained, squirming in his seat under Brennan's gaze. "It's not like I could just drop it and go shift. Besides, we had those plans set up months ago."

"The process of a shift involves a positive feedback loop," Brennan continued explaining as if Booth had never spoken. "When there is a hormonal imbalance due to injury, illness, or prolonged periods of stress, a shifter's body produces shifting proteins. The shifting proteins trigger the release of hormones that causes the production of shifting proteins."

"Basically, the further into a shift, the harder it is to stop," Booth translated.

"Booth is on the verge of shifting and his body is hormonally imbalanced, therefore he is prone to indulge in the emotions that he is usually capable of repressing," she said.

"Geez, Bones," Booth whined, "You make me sound like a girl on her period."

Brennan sat with a thoughtful look on her face. "Well, I suppose that there are similarities although the…"

"No!" Booth exclaimed loudly, "You are not going to say I'm like a…a…you know."

Suarez snickered in the back seat, lounging back to enjoy the show. Booth wriggled in his seat and took one hand off the steering wheel to adjust his cocky belt buckle to assure himself that all was well down there. Brennan glanced down, her gaze drawn to his fidgeting hand, admitting to herself that he was very impressive and not at all like a girl in that area.

"I don't know why you are so sensitive to the subject," she said.

"It's just that a…a man…doesn't like being compared to…" Booth stopped, realizing that he didn't want to end the sentence. It would just get him in trouble. "I just don't like you saying that I am not in control of my emotions. I am the essence of control. Seeley Booth is the control master."

"Is that why you refer to yourself in the third person?" Brennan asked with a saucy smile.

"Yes," he declared because he didn't have a good reason.

"Are you two like this all the time?" Suarez asked in amused awe, unconsciously echoing Angela.

"Yes," Brennan answered as Booth said, "No."

Suarez chuckled at the answer. "Don't stop on my account," he said magnanimously. Brennan and Booth exchanged a glance, but fell silent anyways. Suarez continued to laugh under his breath. They were legendary at the Bureau, both for their stats and for their arguments. But since he didn't spend much time around them, he hadn't given the stories much credence. Well, they changed his mind on the way to the DC Pack offices.

The office backed up against the base of Rock Creek Mountain, away from the bustle of the city. The sheer political might needed to build a large complex on federally protected property reminded everyone in the vehicle that they were about to enter the den of a very dangerous wolf. There was a narrow road leading away from the main road and toward the building. There were no other buildings in sight as they drove through the forest, simply trees and shrubs lining the narrow road. The offices appeared suddenly between the trees. There was no landscaping or signs to announce the presence, but there was no mistaking the place for anything other than what it was. Although the building was relatively new and up-to-date, it still retained a sense of being wild and rustic. It was an ideal place for shapeshifters.

They parked in an underground structure as Booth grumbled all the way about "exit strategies" and "trapped." The parking spaces had tiny signs mounted in front that reserved the spaces, but Booth pulled into one located near the elevator without caring about whose space they were taking.

The two shapeshifters immediately tensed as they exited the SUV. The air was saturated with shapeshifter musk. Booth sneezed harshly three times in succession before he could dampen his sense of smell enough to tolerate it. Brennan wrinkled her nose at the strong scent. It overshadowed the common smells of the parking garage. While Suarez didn't even notice the smell, he studied his surroundings nervously, counting the cars and bikes he could see and wondering why that many people would be there in the middle of a workday.

"Fear tactic," Booth grumbled under his breath as he stopped sneezing. Brennan nodded absently in agreement.

"The strength of the pheromones as one enters the building is an assessment of the strength of the Pack. Delgado is allowing a potential ally or enemy to smell the sheer power of the Pack before ever coming into contact with any of the members of the Pack," she explained.

"What are you talking about?" Suarez demanded.

"Shifter thing," Booth said casually. He was tensed for a snide comment, but Suarez simply nodded and headed with them to the elevator. Booth pressed the button to take them to the lobby and they rode in silence. Just before the doors opened, Booth jabbed the doors closed button and turned to his partner.

"Listen, Bones," he began, looking at her intensely. "I want me and Suarez to take point on this one."

"Why?" she asked. Booth couldn't find it in him to smile, but he wanted to at her predictable answer.

"It's very, very unlikely that we're going to find Ramones without finding Delgado," he warned.

"I don't understand," Brennan said in confusion. Booth sighed, wishing he didn't have an audience for this. It didn't help his image as a macho FBI agent when he had to argue with Brennan over things like this. The doors tried to open once more, but he forcefully pressed the closed button again.

"Delgado…reacts irrationally around you," he explained delicately. "We need to have a professional interview with Ramones without Delgado…fixating on you. So let us take point while you do your bone thingy."

"What do you mean, 'bone thingy?'" she asked, placing her hands on her hips in preparation to defend her specialty.

"You know, where you look at a suspect and how they move and you figure out if they're the murderer or not," he said vaguely. She considered it for a moment, then took her hands off her hips.

"Very well," she capitulated, "You and Agent Suarez can be the principle players while I gain information from the background."

"Thank you," Booth said with feeling.

The doors finally opened to an opulent, but impersonal lobby, complete with a young shifter manning a reception desk in the center. They strode up to the desk confidently, aware of their authority. The two FBI agents took the lead while Brennan scanned the room, looking at the bland landscape portraits and plaques commemorating the founding of the DC Pack and the offices.

"Hello, my name is Sherry. I'm part of the DC Pack. How may I help you?" the receptionist asked perkily. Her hair was dyed a dark brown, but her roots along her part and hairline showed a lighter, reddish color. Most shifters didn't bother with dyes or coloring because their hair grew too fast for them to keep up maintenance. She reminded Booth painfully of Daisy with her slight build and her bubbly attitude, but he pushed the resemblance out of his mind.

"I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth and this is Special Agent Carlos Suarez of the FBI. My partner is Dr. Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian," he introduced, briefly flashing his badge, "We're here to see Leo Ramones."

"May I ask what this is about?" she said, donning her headset and dialing rapidly.

"That's confidential, I'm afraid," Booth said. Brennan joined him at the desk as the young shifter waited for a connection.

They knew the moment when Sherry connected. She sat up a little straighter and her face lost much of its animation, becoming a blank mask. Her voice also lost much of its personality as she said, "Excuse me, sir." Her face lost a little color at whatever he said on the opposite end of the line. "I know, sir, but… Yes, sir. Understood. Yes. I know you're not to be disturbed, sir, but there are people from the FBI… Right away, sir."

Booth felt sorry for the poor girl, but he knew that he couldn't do anything to help her at the moment. He noticed that she was shaking as she stood up to show them the way. "The Alpha is expecting you," she said. Booth, Suarez and Brennan exchanged glances, each wondering how Delgado knew to expect their visit. As Sherry moved around the desk, she said, "If you'll follow me…" She led them to the elevators down the hall and stepped in with them, sliding a key card into the slot instead of pushing the button for a floor. The elevator started moving to the top floor.

"Thanks, Sherry," Booth said comfortingly. He put a little extra oomph into his words and he felt, rather than saw, the tension in her body release a little.

"You're welcome," she said. Her face regained a little of its color and her voice livened considerably. "Are you two mates?" she asked Brennan and Booth. They realized that they were standing very close together and separated quickly.

"No," Brennan said emphatically, as Booth cleared his throat nervously. "We're work partners."

"Oh…" she said in confusion. "It's just…you smell like mates."

"I assure you, we're just partners," Booth said. Suarez tried to conceal a smile by scratching his nose.

"Oh…" Sherry said in a small voice. Booth could see her mind searching for a topic. "I like your books, Dr. Brennan."

"Thank you," Brennan said warily. Usually the people who commented on her books outside of a book signing or other author events were the people that Booth termed "the crazies."

"I would never have guessed that you were a shapeshifter. It doesn't seem to affect your books at all," she commented happily. "It's odd to imagine a world without shapeshifters. Especially when the author is a shifter!"

"I formed the concept of the Kathy Reichs books during graduate school before I became a shapeshifter," she explained. Sherry's expressive green eyes grew wide with shock.

"You mean that you were…created?" she said in a horrified whisper.

"That term is a misnomer," Brennan complained. "I was in existence before I became a shapeshifter. The shapeshifter virus inserted foreign DNA into my genome, but it did not create my being."

"I've never met someone who had been…I mean, who wasn't a shapeshifter when they were born," Sherry said. She looked up at Brennan with the wonder of a child staring at dinosaur bones in a museum. Brennan regarded her with curious confusion, but dismissed it from her mind. Booth hid a smile, but chose not to spook the girl any further with a revelation about his creation process.

The pinging sound that signaled their arrival made the young girl retreat back into her shell. She withdrew her access card and ushered them out of the elevator car into a wide hallway. Brennan and Booth wrinkled their noses in unison as they stepped into the hallway. The stink of Delgado and his right hand man Ramones was concentrated in the bright corridor. The closer they came to the wide, heavy door at the end of the short hall, the more the smell affected each of them. It was strong enough that even Suarez noticed.

"Geez, that's rank," Suarez said, swiping at his nose as they reached the door. The scent was overwhelming, several orders of magnitude higher than what they had experienced in the garage. The room behind the door was most definitely the den of the DC Pack Alpha.

"Imagine how it smells to us," Booth grumbled.

"I've always found it to be comforting," Sherry whispered, her shell cracking slightly to make that comment.

"That is natural," Brennan responded. "To you, as a member of the DC Pack, the smell of the pheromones in the den of your Alpha would mean that your Alpha is strong and capable. To rival shapeshifters, such as Booth and me, the smell would be strong to the point of being offensive, but it allows us to assess the Alpha's strength. And to a non shapeshifter, the smell would not trigger the same emotional and physical responses that the pheromones trigger in other shapeshifters. Therefore Agent Suarez simply perceives the smell as unpleasant."

"It smells like old socks stuffed with ruined beef," Suarez complained.

"That's very interesting," Brennan said, turning towards the gang task force agent. "What is your perception of…?"

"Later, Bones," Booth said tensely, his focus entirely on the door and the men that he knew were behind it.

Sherry hesitantly knocked on the door and opened it at Delgado's bellow. He was seated in a plush leather chair behind his expansive desk. His suit jacket was off and his shirt cuffs rolled up to expose his forearms. The Alpha looked even more dangerous as he relaxed in his office than he had at the hospital. Ramones stood to one side of the office, leaning slightly against the wall with his arms crossed. He, too, was out of his suit jacket, and it revealed an empty holster at his side. A woman dressed in professional business attire stood on the opposite side of the desk from Delgado. Her leather attaché case sat next to her on the floor. Booth didn't recognize her, but he knew instantly that she was one of Delgado's lawyers. It surprised Booth and Brennan that she was not a shapeshifter.

"Alpha," Sherry said meekly as she entered. Her posture and demeanor radiated submission. If she were in her wolf form, she would be crawling on her belly. "Here are the people from the FBI."

Booth and Brennan strode into the room and assumed positions where they could see all the rival shapeshifters but still be out of each other's way. They dominated the large office in a way that Delgado resented fiercely. Suarez didn't have the natural sense of where to stand in terms of shapeshifter dominance, but he was a cop and knew how to work with a team. He made sure that his back wasn't to the door and that he could see all the known threats without being in Booth's firing line in case it came down to a fire fight.

"Agent Booth, Ms. Brennan," Delgado said, his tone polite, but his expression stormy. He stood up, pushing his chair back abruptly. It showed his anger more than he wanted to, but he regained control and calmly pushed his chair back into his desk. Ramones stopped leaning against the wall and assumed a more threatening stance in response. As the posturing went on, both Booth and Brennan noticed that Sherry was quaking at their appearance.

"Sherry, if you'll excuse us," Booth said gently in his "alpha voice." She turned and hurried toward the door, trying not to show her relief at being dismissed. Delgado's expression darkened even further.

"He is _not_ your Alpha," Delgado thundered. Sherry stopped in her tracks, terrified at his tone. Her shivering intensified. "_I_ allow you to leave or not. No one else."

"Forgive me, Alpha," she whispered tremblingly. Delgado glared harshly at Booth and he felt his stomach sink to his feet. Booth had overstepped his boundaries as a guest in the den of another shapeshifter and knew that Delgado was going to use the poor girl as a lesson to him and his partner. He didn't know if they would survive it.

"You put the words of the interlopers above my words," Delgado said in a sickly soft voice.

"I'm sorry, Alpha," Sherry said miserably. She didn't dare look to anyone for help.

"Mr. Delgado," Suarez said, stepping forward slightly. Delgado's attention wandered over to him and he looked at him curiously, as if he didn't realize that he had been there.

"I'm afraid you have the advantage of me," Delgado said, his voice still soft and creepy.

"I'm Special Agent Carlos Suarez of the FBI. We're here to ask your employee, Leo Ramones, also known as _El Jefe,_ some questions," he said. Booth mentally blessed Suarez for drawing attention away from the poor receptionist. Sherry didn't dare move, but tried her best to disappear in the middle of the clashing personalities filling the room.

"More harassment from the FBI?" Delgado asked as if he were amused. He looked over at Ramones, as if assessing him. "How could the executive assistant of the DC Pack Alpha be of help to you?"

"We're investigating the murder of Maria Lopez of the Lopez Family Pack," Booth interjected smoothly.

"A witness places Mr. Ramones at the scene near the time of her murder," Suarez added.

"Ah, yes, the little sister that Luis was so worried about," Delgado said with a tone of caring that rang false with everyone in the room. "Well, we will help in any way we can." He gestured to the woman across from him and added, "My lawyer is here. Any questions you have can go through her."

Delgado's false helpfulness grated on Booth's nerves. It obviously grated on Suarez's as well. "I'm sure that it won't be necessary to bring lawyers into this," Suarez said, matching Delgado's false pleasantness. "Unless you would rather we place Mr. Ramones under arrest. Then a lawyer would be within his rights, of course."

"I had nothing to do with Maria's death," Ramones interjected. His voice was too high pitched for his body size, but it had the same conceited tone that his manner carried. He considered himself above suspicion and was annoyed that they would even question him. However, he lost a little of his brash manner when Delgado turned his furious eyes onto him.

"Not another word unless she says you can answer," Delgado said, the power of his voice bowing the bigger, heavier man to his will. It set the two partners' teeth on edge.

"If you answer our questions now, this won't have to become a problem," Booth said to Ramones. Delgado arrogantly acted as if the agent had addressed him.

"You have interrupted my work, Agent Booth. You came in here and undermined my authority as an Alpha to my Pack. It has already become a problem," Delgado stated harshly.

He paced around the desk, glaring briefly at Ramones as he passed. Each footfall was deliberate as he stalked toward the person he considered to be the biggest threat. Booth held his ground contemptuously. The men stared at each other with intense focus as Delgado confronted Booth. His eyes flicked up and down Booth's form with hatred and disgust as he assessed his strength and his weaknesses. Delgado's eyes narrowed as he remembered one of the agent's greatest weaknesses and moved to Brennan. His gaze turned lecherous, but although Booth prepared to attack, Delgado's stare moved away from Brennan and stopped at the other woman in the room that Booth's protective instincts flared in response to. The DC Alpha moved in front of Sherry, the strawberry blonde who dyed her hair dark to be more pleasing to her Alpha, and towered over the submissive shapeshifter.

"Go back to work," he ordered in a gravely tone, relishing the power he held over her. As she stumbled over herself to obey, he grabbed her upper arm. The quick move made Booth instinctively tense before he told himself to relax. Anything he could do or say would make things worse for the poor girl. Although his anger burned hotter as he noticed that Delgado's fingers pressed hard enough to leave dark marks as he pulled her closer, Booth forced his temper down and stored it away for later. He knew that Delgado was watching closely for his reaction. In words that Booth knew were meant for him to hear, Delgado said, "Remember who your Alpha is."

He shoved her to the door and Sherry scurried out. Booth slowly unclenched his fists. It annoyed him that Delgado was able to rattle him, but Booth took some comfort in the fact that Suarez looked angered as well. His jaw was set in a grim line, and Booth could see clearly that his hatred for Delgado had grown in the time they were in the Pack offices.

"My name is Amy Cordon," the lawyer said into the tense quiet, not offering to shake hands with the law enforcement officers. "I'll be representing Mr. Ramones."

"Very well," Suarez said, stepping forward. "But I'm afraid I'll have to insist on Mr. Delgado leaving the room while we ask Mr. Ramones some questions. I don't want his testimony to be tampered with by the presence of his Alpha in the room."

Delgado's face burned an angry red as he felt his control slip away.

"Is there an office we could use?" Booth asked. He wanted to smirk, but it would be unwise to let Delgado see victory on his face.

"You can use the room down the hall," Delgado responded. His face was smooth, but Booth got the sense that he had found some way to turn the request into a win for him. Nevertheless, Booth and Suarez escorted Ramones down the hall while Brennan and Ms. Cordon followed behind. Delgado led the way, taking out a key card similar to the one Sherry used in the elevator. Booth confiscated the card with a hard look. He didn't want Delgado to pull a fast one and leave them locked in whatever hellhole he had found for them. He unlocked the door and everyone except Delgado trouped inside.

"Don't keep my assistant very long, as his time is valuable," Delgado ordered. Booth couldn't resist rising to the bait.

"The FBI will take as long as it needs," he said brashly.

They stepped into the room, only to be confronted by an acrid smell and several bare platforms positioned low to the ground. The walls and floor were bare concrete and tile, so very different from the rest of the plush offices. Brennan immediately grabbed Booth's arm and pulled him away from the room, her concern shining through as soon as she realized what type of room Delgado was offering.

"You shouldn't be in there," she hissed in a low voice. Booth's face was panicked, his eyes showing the white all around his irises.

"You know I can't back down, Bones," he whispered, trying to shield their conversation with his broad shoulders. He knew it was suspicious, and he could feel Delgado's smirk on his back, but he didn't want them to know exactly how much being in the shifting room, with all its seductive smells, affected him.

"What if you begin to shift?" she argued. "Will you simply stay here in the DC Pack shifting rooms for weeks while you gain enough strength to shift back?"

Booth winced at her blunt assessment. "I don't think the room has been used recently. The scent is strong, but not overwhelming. I think that with you as my anchor, I can resist shifting."

"What will you do to maintain your shape? In light of the fact that many pheromones are spread through evaporation along a tuft of hair, will you inhale every breath through my hair while you're in the room?" Brennan asked derisively. In spite of the situation, Booth grinned.

"You mean, sniff your hair while we're stuck in the room with a bunch of nasty-smelling guys? Not a bad idea," he teased. Although he was joking, his eyes darkened as he glanced at her lightly curled hair. The reddish cloud that fell over her shoulders in a chestnut wave drew his attention in many ways. He had the sudden desire to purge himself of all the abrasive scents around him by burying his nose in her fragrant hair and breathing her in.

"That would be impractical in the extreme," Brennan stated, the teasing passing right over her head.

"It'll be all right, Bones," Booth said, his grin falling into a more serious expression.

"I'm not certain of the positive outcome that you anticipate, Booth," Brennan said nervously. "You know that although I am a very strong alpha, I am of similar strength to you. I am not capable of reversing your shifting patterns once they are started."

"Trust me, Bones," he whispered warmly into her ear. "You're strong enough for me." His breath stirred her hair and again he felt the urge to just hold on to her and breathe in everything that was good. He restrained himself and decisively turned into the room.

"Is everything all right, Agent Booth?" Delgado asked, his smirk hidden under a mask of sympathy.

"Peachy," Booth grumbled. He smoothed his hand down his blue tie and donned a professional expression. "Thank you for your help, Mr. Delgado."

"Anything for the partner of the beautiful Temperance Brennan," he said, knowing that it would get under Booth's skin. Mindful of his audience, Booth didn't allow any reaction other than a minute tightening of his lips as Brennan grimaced. He allowed the door to close behind him, Delgado in the hall and the rest of the participants in the shifting room. With a final glance at his partner, he focused on the interrogation in front of him and uncovering a possible killer.

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><p>AN: I know that this is an abrupt ending, but this chapter was becoming unwieldy and I wanted to get something up this week rather than waiting any longer. Please tell me what you think!


	17. A Dangerous Game

A/N: I hope everyone is having a wonderful 2012. Thank you so much to everyone who gave me pushes, prods, kicks and other forms of encouragement to get moving on this chapter. It never met my expectation, but at least it's posted! I'm much more excited about the upcoming chapters.

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><p><strong>Chapter 17: A Dangerous Game<strong>

Brennan shivered imperceptibly as she took a stance in the corner of the room slightly behind Booth and Suarez. They were facing Ramones and his lawyer and stood between the ones they were interrogating and the door, blocking the way if Ramones panicked and tried to escape.

She was immensely uncomfortable in the shifting room, even though she tried her best to compartmentalize it for Booth's sake. The shifting room smelled strongly of industrial strength cleaners with undertones of bitter shifting odors, decay and hints of fear. The tile floors could be sluiced with cleaners and washed down the central drain. Even though Brennan had shifted a handful of times in a room very similar to this one, she still felt that this shifting room could be used just as easily to wash away blood and tears as well as the effluvia of a shift.

Her first shift had been in a shifting room more primitive than this, with a hard packed dirt floor instead of tile. The cell in a jungle in El Salvador had been filled with the same stink of fear and rot. After being marched away from the temporary lab by an armed guard, the men had placed a bag on her head and shoved into the dark room. Every day they had come in and made her believe that she would die. When she was bitten, she had given up any shred of hope, knowing that it was a capital offense to infect another person with the shapeshifter virus and the shapeshifter would kill her and destroy the last evidence of his crime. She had woken up after her first shift on the dirt floor, her new jaguar senses overwhelmed with blood and death and rot. A rescue party had come the next day, taking her weak feline body to a medical facility to recover. It had been three years before she could bring herself to shift to her jaguar form inside a room and even then, it was in the privacy of her own home.

She pushed her thoughts into a metaphorical box and concentrated on her partner. As Booth had asked her, she also scrutinized every move that Leo Ramones made, analyzing the way he moved and compared what she observed to the information she and her team had collected in the lab. It confirmed what she knew: that he fit the parameters of the data. Unfortunately she knew that many men and some women fit the criteria as well.

"I did not kill Maria," Ramones stated.

"Please consult with me before you say anything," the lawyer told Ramones.

"What was the nature of your relationship with Maria Lopez?" Booth asked, his hands resting on his hips.

"My client declines to answer," Ms. Cordon said, but was cut off by her client.

"She was my girlfriend," Ramones interrupted in a strangely bitter tone. Booth and Brennan exchanged a glance.

"You had a romantic relationship with Maria Lopez?" Booth clarified. Brennan sifted through the evidence in her mind, wondering if their information had been wrong. It seemed logical at the time to assume that Roberto Martinez was Maria's boyfriend based on their witnesses' testimony.

"Yes," the large man said in his high pitched voice, ignoring the lawyer's advice once again. "We were getting married."

"What about Roberto Martinez?" Booth asked slyly. Brennan watched as Ramones' face contorted into a mask of rage.

"You don't have to say anything, Leo," the exasperated lawyer said.

"He's nothing!" Ramones shouted. It echoed around the small room like a shot, making everyone wince. "He's nothing to her. He's nothing to me."

"Again, Leo, I advise you to ask me before you answer," Ms. Cordon said.

"He always tried to take away my Maria from me," he went on, oblivious to the wise advice from his lawyer.

"Did you ever meet with Roberto Martinez?" Booth asked.

"No," Ramones said grumpily. "He wasn't even in a Pack. I don't know why he thought he could have Maria. He was always trying to take her away, even though she was mine. I would watch him take her to that farm, and he would do things to her."

"What kind of things?" Suarez asked warily. At that question, Ramones became stony faced and shut up. The interrogators waited several quiet moments before trying another track.

"That farm," Booth said leadingly, "Who owned it?"

"I don't know," Ramones said, a sullen pouting expression on his face, "Some redneck. He was kind of off, if you know what I mean. I didn't get near him."

Booth swayed forward slightly, rocking on his toes and back on his heels. Brennan noticed the small movement although it went unnoticed by the rest. She prowled around the room until she was directly behind Booth. He rocked back towards her slightly, his nostrils flaring. One of Booth's strengths as an interrogator was that he used his nose as well as his intuition to determine whether or not a suspect was lying. Lying caused a plethora of reactions in the body, including an increase in heart rate and perspiration. Booth was able to see and smell those minute changes with an ease that Brennan envied. Right now his usual techniques were a detriment, causing the smells in the shifting room to have more of an impact in his precariously balanced system than would otherwise be the case. She hoped that her nearness would offset some of the negative influence of the shifting room.

"Were you in your animal form when you watched the farm?" Booth asked, his voice showing none of the weakness he must feel.

"Yeah. I thought I could protect her," he responded sadly.

"And were you in your animal form on Friday April 8th?" Booth asked. Brennan felt a spurt of anticipation, knowing that he was getting to crux of the matter. If Leo Ramones was in his wolf form at the time of Roberto Martinez's murder, he couldn't have been the person behind the gun or the attack on one of their victims because the attacker or attackers had opposable thumbs and size 11 shoes. For the first time, Ramones looked to his lawyer for advice. She nodded her ascent for him to answer.

"Yeah," he said belligerently. "I was. So?"

"And how long did you maintain your animal form?" Booth asked.

"Well, I was taking a bunch of firsts out for their first run. We shifted here on Thursday and shifted back about two weeks later. You know how firsts are," he said in a condescending tone. "Running wild all over the place, but they keep falling over their own four legs. It was a long two weeks, let me tell you."

Brennan felt a sense of satisfaction as that piece of information fell into place. Leo Ramones might have been involved in the murder, and unless she had access to a recent x-ray of his femurs she couldn't say with certainty that he had shifted during the period that he claimed, but she saw that Booth relaxed almost infinitesimally. Booth and Suarez shared a glance and then Booth turned toward Brennan, giving her a look that she couldn't fully interpret. She was better able to interpret body language than facial expressions.

"Were you in Rock Creek Park?" Suarez asked.

"Yeah, of course we were," he responded. His face turned into an amusing expression of annoyance as he thought back. "But you can't really go anywhere with firsts. I swear, we didn't get even a mile away from here."

"Did you or any of the shapeshifters with you go near Rock Creek Mountain?" Suarez pressed.

"Nah, man," Ramones said, his frame noticeably more relaxed now that the topic was away from Maria. "You can't run free when you're on babysitting duty. Like I said, we didn't get more than a mile from this place."

"Were you aware of Maria's plans during that time?" Booth asked shrewdly.

Ramones shifted his large bulk uncomfortably. "She didn't say what her plans were," he admitted. "I thought she was working that weekend."

"As Maria's…boyfriend," Brennan began, stumbling over the phrasing, "Were you acting as her Alpha?"

"Of course," he said harshly, bristling as his attention fell on Brennan. Booth stiffened his spine as he stepped slightly in front of her protectively, shielding her from the directness of Ramones' gaze. Ramones addressed his next statement to Booth, saying mockingly. "A man takes care of his woman."

"However, Maria shifted alone," Brennan observed. Booth picked up on her line of questioning, motioning for her to be quiet, but Ramones focused on her with a sick fascination in his eyes as she continued. "And someone took advantage of the fact that she wasn't shifting with her pack. Someone who knew her movements because he had been watching Maria for months."

"Shut up, bitch," Ramones growled. His figure hummed with anger.

"If you are, in fact, labeling me as a female wolf, then I must tell you that your information is incorrect. If you're simply using the term as a derogatory slur on me as a woman, then I suppose that your terminology could be correct by the standards of your anthropological group, although I find it offensive," Brennan said matter-of-factly.

"It's not correct any way you use it when you're talking about my partner," Booth growled, pushing back his jacket to reveal his weapon and badge as a display of dominance. "Perhaps you would like to see the inside of a cell for a few days to remind you of that fact."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," the lawyer said, motioning frantically with her hands. "My client has rights."

"He hasn't been arrested," Suarez reminded the lawyer.

"Mr. Ramones has been very cooperative," Ms. Cordon said, belligerently defending her client. "I think it's time to dispense with any other unnecessary questions." Booth held the lawyer's gaze for a few tense moments before relaxing purposefully and nodding. He looked over at Ramones with a cold stare, daring him to give him an excuse to exercise his authority over the brawny wolf.

"We'll be in touch," Booth promised.

"A recent x-ray of your femurs would provide sufficient alibi to clear you of Maria's murder, provided that you did, indeed shift during that period," Brennan told Ramones as she was pushed out of the room by her furious partner.

"We will provide one to the FBI," the lawyer conceded.

"Thank you!" Brennan called out as Suarez's form blocked the doorway. She spun quickly as she felt Booth tense dramatically and began to turn slightly, trying to place his body between hers and what he considered a threat. Predictably, Delgado leaned against the wall opposite the door they had exited. His entire posture radiated possessiveness. Brennan recognized the same stance that Booth had in his domain, confidently stating by his posture that he was in charge and all others must submit to him.

"I trust that you found everything you needed to know," Delgado said with a smirk. Booth made a low growl deep in his chest that Brennan felt rather than heard. She was startled at the sign of his loss of control and gripped his bicep through his jacket. His body was tense, but Booth metaphorically pulled back from the fight, calming himself.

"Your help is appreciated," Booth said, unclenching his teeth to speak. He handed Delgado the key card with more force than strictly necessary, although Delgado didn't show any sign that he noticed other than his smirk widening. "We'll be in touch. I'd advise you not to leave town."

"Your advice is appreciated," Delgado responded facetiously. He puffed out his chest to make himself look more imposing, but it struck Brennan as ludicrous. The posturing between the two alpha males was wearing on her nerves. "I'm sure that you have other things to do," he said with a sneer. He looked past Booth to Brennan as she watched. She noticed that Booth's muscles bunched under her hand at the observation.

"Dr. Brennan, it's been a pleasure seeing you again, even under these circumstances," he said genially. The contrast between his actions with Booth and his words to her put her on her guard.

"Murder is very rarely pleasing," Brennan said when Delgado seemed to require a response.

"I understand," he said. He looked back at Booth and the sneering expression came back to his face. "But you won't find your killer here. Sherry will show you out."

"If you'll follow me…" Sherry whispered fearfully. Booth shot a parting angry glare, but followed the young girl down the hall, retracing their steps. Brennan felt Delgado's eyes on her as she left, but Booth pushed her ahead of him with his hand on the small of her back, again putting his body between Delgado and her.

"I wish you wouldn't herd me as if I were an errant ewe," Brennan complained as he pushed her along.

"Sometimes I don't understand you, Bones," Booth muttered as they came to the elevator.

"What do you not understand?" Brennan asked in confusion. "I was very clear with my vocabulary."

Booth mumbled something that Brennan couldn't quite catch and reached for his phone as it rang. He ushered her into the elevator, not waiting for Sherry to enter first. His voice echoed in the small chamber as he answered his call. Brennan pushed his hands out of the way as he tried to move her into the corner farthest away from where they'd come. His irrational need to screen her from Delgado grated on her nerves. Defiantly, she stood next to him and listened as he spoke tersely into the phone.

"Right," he said abruptly. He ended the call with a press of a button and watched the doors close. "Luis is awake," Booth informed them. Sherry's head twitched from where she was staring intently at the door panel, but she didn't make a sound.

Suarez watched all three shifters warily, but said, "We need to talk to him. There must be a reason he fingered _El Jefe_. We need to know what he knows."

Booth displayed his displeasure at Suarez through his look, then turned to Sherry, who was trying to make herself invisible to them. "I would appreciate if you would keep this to yourself, Sherry," he said in an even tone.

"Booth, she is bound by Pack Law to report any information that has bearing on the Pack to the Alpha or the Alpha Pair," Brennan argued. "Telling her to keep this information to herself is a conflict of interest for her."

"This information won't hurt her Pack," Booth assured Sherry. Sherry looked terrified.

"Leo Ramones is one of the Alpha Pair," she said in a scared voice.

"That is very odd," Brennan commented. "Generally the Alpha Pair consists of the Alpha and his or her mate. I was under the impression that Cesar Delgado was heterosexual."

"He's not gay, if that's what you mean," Sherry explained quietly, "But the Alpha's mate holds no power. She's not an alpha female or part of the Alpha Pair. That role falls to _El Jefe_."

"I was not aware of that fact," Brennan said, pleased that she was able to gain that information. "In light of that knowledge, we may need to consider the fact that Mr. Ramones could have used his position to coerce a pack member to commit murder."

"I hate shifter cases," Suarez muttered. "Too complicated." The other three ignored him.

"I've thought of that," Booth said, "But the murder seems very personal to me. I don't think it was a flunky doing someone else's dirty work. The killer wanted those two dead in a bad way, and I don't think that he delegated it."

"Agent Suarez is right, however," Brennan said. "We need to speak to Luis Lopez."

"We need to go there before Delgado shows up to claim him," Booth said darkly. His eyes grew feral thinking about the DC Pack Alpha and his stance and aggressive posture radiated hatred. Brennan shifted so that her arm brushed his elbow, trying to keep contact with him in hopes that she could moderate his response. It seemed to work, as his look lost some of its manic intensity.

"We can go by the hospital and speak with Luis right now and not have to compete with Delgado," Suarez murmured as the elevator dinged to signal their arrival.

"Then we're all agreed?" Brennan asked decisively. Nods from her colleagues confirmed her statement, but Booth pensively watched Sherry. The young shapeshifter was staring determinedly at the lighted panel, even though the elevator doors were opened.

"You know…" Booth began with a hesitant tone, "…there are other options for you besides the DC Pack."

"Oh," Sherry exclaimed in surprise. "No, I couldn't possibly find another pack. I'm the first shifter in my family in generations, so my family is not a part of a pack. I'd have to marry into another pack to transfer from this pack, and if I did that, I'd have to fight for my current rank. I don't want to do that."

"There is another option…" Booth said. He made eye contact with Brennan over Sherry's head, pleading with her to do something. Brennan shifted her weight uncomfortably and tilted her head, giving her partner a disgruntled look. Booth smiled with a hopeful lift of his lips. Brennan acquiesced with a resigned sigh. Sherry followed this silent exchange with hopeful curiosity and when she saw the agreement between them, she took her finger off the "door open" button and the elevator doors slid closed again.

"I am the Alpha of the Family Felidae Pack," Brennan admitted to a wide-eyed Sherry. "Ms. Daisy Wick, Dr. Lance Sweets and I comprise the entire pack. If you would like to join, I will consider your application favorably."

"Wow," Sherry whispered reverently. Her face showed her hopes rising as the implications settled in. But her countenance quickly fell. "But it's such a small pack," she said in quiet disappointment. "It couldn't possibly have the same…safety as the DC Pack." Her careful wording did not go unnoticed. Sherry glanced around at the three in the elevator car, knowing that they were there to help, but unable to ask for that help.

"Agent Booth is not a member, but he is my partner. Therefore he is involved in the Pack, although he is not a member himself. He is very protective of those he considers to be under his care," Brennan said to reassure the young woman.

"I don't know…" Sherry said hesitantly. She watched the partners for their reactions, but other than their steady regard, she didn't gain any clues. Her shoulders slumped again and she tucked her head to her chest. Reluctantly she pressed the "door open" button and sighed as the doors opened once more. "No, thank you," she finally said.

A muscle twitched in Booth's jaw, but he didn't look surprised. "Let us know if you change your mind," he said, handing her one of his business cards. She took it quickly and hid it in her pocket. They exited, exchanging regretful nods, and the three made their way to the parking garage.

The ride to the hospital was made with little conversation. They arrived with little fanfare and a security guard escorted them to the shapeshifter isolation ward where Luis was still held. The round security guard with an inflated sense of his own importance asked them to wait in the hall until the doctor could meet with them.

Dr. Adeniji waved his free hand in exasperation when he saw them. "I don't want anyone upsetting my patient," he said abruptly as he stopped in front of them.

"I'm sorry, doctor, but we have to ask Mr. Lopez some questions about the murder of his sister and Roberto Martinez," Booth said briskly, flashing his badge.

"He is still in a transition state," Dr. Adeniji said, unimpressed at Booth's business-like attitude. "Another shift so soon will kill him. I don't want to risk him becoming emotional."

"Dr. Adeniji, I understand the predicament, but we really need to talk to the witness," Suarez said.

"I cannot allow it," the doctor said. "Three interrogators crowding around a shapeshifter with a fragile hormonal balance? That's a recipe for disaster. And federal regulations prohibit a non-shifter in an isolation room with a shifter in a transitional state."

"No problem," Suarez said with his hands raised palm out. "I don't have to be in the room."

"Both Agent Booth and I are capable of obtaining answers," Brennan said, gesturing between herself and her partner. "And Mr. Lopez responded favorably to me while I was in the ambulance with him. My presence stabilized his condition until the emergency room doctor could administer the proper treatment."

"Mr. Lopez could provide valuable information in this matter. We wouldn't have to stay long if he proves to be a cooperative witness," Booth added persuasively. He could see that the doctor was waffling between concern for his patient and wanting to oblige the police.

"I will talk with Mr. Lopez about this. If he decides to answer your questions, then I will allow one person to ask. The rest may observe from the viewing window. Is this acceptable to you?" Dr. Adeniji said. Agent Suarez began to grumble, but Booth elbowed him discreetly.

"That is an acceptable compromise," Brennan answered for them. The doctor turned to leave and the three left in the hall looked at each other.

"Well, I suppose that Booth is going in solo for this one," Suarez said with a hint of trepidation. Although he knew better than to air dirty laundry in front of strangers, Suarez knew that Booth was not up to his usual excellence. Brennan studied Booth closely for a few moments, then nodded in agreement with Suarez.

"Of the two of us, Booth has the most experience in obtaining information from witnesses," she admitted reluctantly. She had doubts about Booth's wellbeing, but chose to keep them to herself.

"I'm actually surprised that the doctor considered this," Booth said under his breath. "After one of my first shifts that caught me unprepared, I had to spend almost two weeks in isolation."

"I've had that experience as well," Brennan said. Suarez watched them curiously, but didn't offer to share their moment of commiseration. They waited in silence until the doctor's return.

"Mr. Lopez has agreed to answer a few questions," he stated in a disapproving tone. "You will have an allotted time of ten minutes. After that, I must ask you to leave, due to Mr. Lopez's precarious state."

"Thank you, doctor," Booth said, moving toward the door to Luis's room. The doctor moved to stand in front of him.

"Mr. Lopez specifically asked for the woman to ask the questions," Dr. Adeniji said, looking at Brennan. Both FBI agents raised their eyebrows in surprise, turning in unison to look at Brennan.

"Do you think you're up for this, Bones?" Booth asked in a private tone.

"Of course," she said, holding her head up proudly. Booth smiled a little at her imperious manner, but lightly touched her shoulder supportively.

"Knock 'em dead," he encouraged.

"That is exactly what we do not want," Brennan responded in a chiding way. Booth and Suarez tried to hide their smiles, but Dr. Adeniji nodded in agreement.

"If you will follow me, I will monitor your meeting with my patient," he said, already turning to leave. Brennan followed easily, leaving her companions to find their way to the observation window.

The isolation room was familiar to Brennan, even though she had never had the occasion to use this particular one. It was designed to handle an out-of-control shapeshifter and built with the needs of non-human forms in mind. The isolation chamber, like the shifting room at the DC Pack Headquarters, was made to be easily cleaned. The tile floors sloped gently to a drain in the center of the floor, and the walls were plain and unadorned. There were shifting platforms pushed against the walls that doubled as beds for shifters in their animal forms. The air smelled stale and dull because of the fastidious ventilation systems used for a shifter in transition state. But this room was dominated by a hospital bed with Luis's frail form attached to machines.

"Hey, alpha lady," he said weakly. Brennan paused for a fraction of a second at the nickname, but continued with her original intent.

"Hi, Luis," she said, standing near the bed where Luis could see her without straining his neck. His skin was shiny and damp-looking, almost translucent, as if he had recently shifted. But it was a good sign, showing that he wasn't truly in a transitional state any longer. Brennan wondered what his shifting protein levels looked like, but shelved that thought for later.

"I don't have anything to say about the murders," Luis said preemptively.

"You're not under arrest, Luis," Brennan said soothingly. She wished she had an earpiece for Booth to give her pointers. He was the superior interrogator, although she wouldn't say that to him because his ego didn't need any more stroking. "But you gave us some incomplete information in our last meeting. I'd appreciate it if you would clarify your statement."

"Did you talk with _El Jefe_?" Luis asked. Brennan could see his pulse in his neck, and a glance at the heart monitor at her side confirmed that Luis was becoming agitated.

"We did," she said, "We are in the process of confirming his alibi."

"He was after my sister," Luis said. "He was stalking her. Everywhere she went, he was there, too. And he gave her things, you know?"

"What type of things?" Brennan asked. She concentrated on giving off calming pheromones. Alphas had the ability to produce pheromones to influence the shifters under their leadership, but Brennan had no experience in that. Hopefully her presence would stabilize Luis and cause him to stay calm. She split her focus to listen to Luis and analyze her best plan of approach as well as calm him.

"Maria shifted with my parents a few months ago and _El Jefe_ left her a dead deer. He made sure to spray all around it so that they would know it was from him. He had to have watched her shift, then brought it when she was unconscious. It was sick. He also left her love notes and stuff at her work. When he saw Maria with her boyfriend, he was pissed, man. I mean, the creep factor went way up after that. He started watching her everywhere. Maria and Roberto would go to that creepy farm to get away from him, but he would just follow them."

Brennan metaphorically stepped back and watched as Luis continued without any prompting on her part. The words flowed from him as if a dam had broken. Idly she wondered if it was the pheromones, some type of drug that the hospital gave him, or a combination of the two that made him more accommodating and brought about the sudden verbosity.

"_El Jefe_ started messing with me, asking about my sister and threatening us both if she didn't return his feelings. I got fed up with it, so I told Maria that if she didn't break up with her boyfriend, I would end it for her. Plus, Roberto was a dud. He couldn't shift," Luis said disparagingly. "I don't know what she saw in him, anyways."

Luis stopped and took a few deep breaths. "Can I get some water?" he asked. Brennan glanced at the doctor for confirmation. He nodded and Brennan poured half a cup of water for Luis and handed it to him. His hands shook violently as he sipped, and he handed the cup back after only a few seconds.

"Why did you think Leo Ramones killed your sister?" Brennan asked. Luis took a deep breath and continued.

"The last time I saw him, he was really angry. He told me that if he saw Maria with her boyfriend again, he would kill them both for betraying him. And he said that he would go after me next," he said in a strained voice. "I knew what Maria was going to do. She was trying to make Roberto one of the Created. That's why she had to go alone with him. But I followed her. I tried to protect her, because I could smell _El Jefe_, in his other form, in the park that day. I knew that if he caught Maria and Roberto together, he'd keep his promise and I'd never see my sister again."

He pulled slightly at the nasal cannula, but didn't pull it away from his face. His agitation grew as his voice dropped. "Listen, alpha lady," he said hoarsely, "If you don't put him away for this, he'll kill me. He'll know I was the one who told. The Pack would never tolerate disrespect like that."

Brennan glanced up at the observation window where she knew Booth was watching, then looked back down to Luis. "There is another option for you, Luis," Brennan said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the doctor tap his watch as a signal that her time was up. She focused her attention on the young shapeshifter for the brief moments she had left.

"What's that, alpha lady?" Luis asked, glancing down her body in a way that struck her as ludicrous considering his weak condition.

"I am the alpha of a pack," she said simply. "I do not think that your current pack is a healthy place for you to be, and I am in a position to offer you a better solution. Would you like to join the Family Felidae Pack?"

Luis was quiet for a long moment. The doctor watched the exchange silently as Brennan waited. Finally, Luis gave a smirk and shrugged a shoulder. His smirk masked a deep sadness that even Brennan could decipher from his countenance. "Sorry, alpha lady," he said, "I like you. And you have guts, I'll give you that. But you're in way over your head on this one. I want to stay on the winning team. And Alpha Delgado? He's the one who will win in the end."

"I'm afraid your time is completed," Dr. Adeniji said into the sad silence that followed Luis's statement. Brennan didn't challenge his announcement, but nodded and turned to leave. The doctor turned with a grim look on his face and opened the door for her.

"Hey, alpha lady," Luis called to her as she was about to leave. Brennan regarded him with a steady gaze as she lingered in the doorway. Luis looked sheepish and muttered, "Good luck."

Instead of telling him that she didn't believe in luck, she simply thanked him and left.

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you again to everyone who is still reading, and especially those who took the time to leave a review. There's some good stuff coming up, and hopefully it won't take too long for me to post it this time.


	18. Subtle Changes

A/N: I apologize again that this is so late. I hope you haven't given up on this story yet. Thank you so very, very much to the people who reviewed and messaged me. I know I didn't respond personally to some reviews, but I want you to know that they were such an encouragement. You're the reason that this story continues!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 18: Subtle Changes<strong>

Booth and Suarez met her outside. Booth gave her a sympathetic look that she acknowledged, but didn't lengthen. It made her feel too fragile, as if Booth were comforting her after a crushing defeat. It helped that Suarez was there, giving her a look of disbelief for inviting a punk kid and gangster wannabe that already admitted to taking drugs into her pack.

"Luis provided some evidence against Ramones, but it was mostly circumstantial," Suarez said as they made their way out of the hospital. "We will have to wait and see if his alibi is confirmed."

"But it would give a good motive," Booth responded, talking it out with his fellow agent. Suarez nodded in agreement. "And if you have motive, then you can work backwards to find the means."

"That's highly illogical," Brennan said disparagingly. "The case rests on facts that can be proven, not something as insubstantial as motive."

"In any case," Booth said in a determined voice, not wanting to be drawn into a pointless argument. "There's nothing more we can do here."

"If my presence is not required, then I would like to go back to the lab. I hope to find some more _facts_ to add to the body of _evidence_," Brennan said, making sure that her derision for the FBI agents' methods was clear.

"That's a good plan, Bones," Booth said absently, thinking ahead while staring into the distance. "We can drop you off and pick up Sweets on the way, I suppose."

"If you were truly serious about the four of us staying in pairs, then yes, that would be a good plan," she offered.

"Was that snide? It sounded snide," Booth said huffily.

"It was simply agreement," Brennan defended. She beat Suarez to the car and claimed the front seat with no contest. Suarez gave her a dirty look behind Booth's back, but he didn't say anything about it.

"You know, that farmer sounds familiar. What did you say his name was, again?" Suarez asked thoughtfully.

"Stanton," Booth answered, "John Stanton."

"I'd like to check to see if he has any connection with either Mara Muerte or the DC Pack," he said to Booth.

"He seemed clean when I talked to him. He didn't raise any red flags," Booth told him. Suarez shrugged nonchalantly.

"We'll see what comes up in my files," he said.

Brennan looked nervously out of the window, studying the mirror on the passenger's side. "Booth, I believe there's a car following us," she said, her slightly outraged tone covering up her nervousness. Both Booth and Suarez nodded.

"They've been on us since we left the pack offices," Booth said, watching as the beat-up red Honda changed lanes to keep up with the SUV.

"Probably reporting everything to Delgado," Suarez commented. Neither of the men sounded overly concerned.

"I think I saw that same car last night," Brennan murmured. Although her voice was low, Booth immediately went on alert.

"When? Before or after the pack meeting?" he demanded.

"Before. It was across the street from Founding Fathers when Angela, Hodgins and I left the restaurant."

Booth studied the red Accord as if his life depended on it. The windows were tinted, but he thought he could make out at least two figures in the car.

"The Jeffersonian should have those security tapes for me. I'll make sure to check for that car. That might have been what they drove when they left that message on your car," he turned to Brennan. "I think it might be following you. It didn't start following the SUV until they knew that you were in the car. And if you say you saw it last night? Well…that's evidence right there."

"Wait a minute," Suarez said, leaning forward, "What message?"

"It's nothing," Brennan said quickly, shooting Booth a warning look. Booth ignored it completely.

"Bones found a note on her car the other night saying that she should leave his pack alone," he told his colleague.

"It's unrelated to the case," Brennan protested.

"Was there any way to trace the threat back to Delgado?" Suarez asked like a shark sensing blood in the water.

"No, but the intention was clear," Booth told him. "Brennan was meant to know who it was from and why she was being warned."

"Did you take it to the FBI crime lab and let the techies play with it?" Suarez asked. Booth looked sideways at Brennan, trying to judge her reaction.

"Yeah," he admitted, "There're no prints, nothing to tie it to either the DC Pack or Mara Muerte."

"My team at the Jeffersonian could have found much more," came the expected reply from Brennan. She looked at her partner with annoyed disgust at the betrayal of her team.

"Then why didn't you give it to them yourself?" Booth shot back. His partner didn't have a ready answer and subsided into aloof silence.

"Why do you say it's unrelated?" Suarez asked.

"Bones took two of Delgado's pack members away from him when she started the Family Felidae Pack," Booth said with pride in his voice. Suarez raised his thick eyebrows in admiration.

"Nicely done," he praised, "I bet that took some _cojones_."

"No, it merely took some persuasion and deception on the part of Dr. Sweets and Ms. Wick," Brennan said. "My reproductive organs did not play a part in my decision."

Booth choked on a laugh as Suarez looked confused. But Suarez simply shrugged it off as one of those mystifying things that the bone doctor said. He leaned back in his seat as they drove up to the Jeffersonian. Everyone disembarked when they parked, Booth on a mission to find Sweets, Suarez to commandeer the security video of the parking facility, and Brennan headed straight for her office.

"Sweets!" Booth yelled as he came into the lab. Everyone turned to look with amazement and amusement.

"Well, Booth," Angela said as she came out of her office, "This is a new twist. Usually you just yell for Bren. Don't tell me your tastes are changing." Angela smirked as Booth ignored her teasing. Sweets came around the corner looking a lot like a puppy seeing his owner. His undisguised delight startled Booth a little, but he hid it behind his mask of annoyance.

"Agent Booth," Sweets said with a grin on his baby face, "It's good to see you."

"I wasn't gone that long, Sweets," Booth said flatly. He studied the psychologist, wondering at the stronger attachment. Underneath the puppyish adoration, Booth sensed that Sweets was afraid. Steering them away from Angela, he asked in a low voice, "Is there anything I should know about?"

Sweets shrugged one shoulder, "Daisy has been getting some calls from a series of unknown numbers on her cell. It could be nothing."

"What do the callers say?" Booth asked tensely, his instincts telling him that these phone calls weren't a coincidence.

"Nothing. None of the callers even breathe heavily or anything. That's one reason I think it could just be a quirk. Daisy has been letting any number she doesn't recognize go to voicemail to be safe."

"Would the DC Pack have that number?" Booth asked. Sweets nodded, and Booth's expression grew even grimmer. "Get me a list of those numbers," Booth ordered. "I'm going to talk to Bones and Daisy. Go find Suarez at Security and meet me in the front in ten."

"Gotcha," Sweets said, headed off on his task.

Booth breathed deeply for a moment, taking in the scents that he associated with Bones. Harsh chemicals and the hint of dusty bones, the faint odor of putrefaction from the Autopsy Room, and the mixed smells of the squints all reminded him of the woman who ran it all. It was odd that he found a mix of scents that would normally be repulsive to be comforting, instead. He found Brennan in her office, bent over some files on her desk. She was so eager to get back to her work that she didn't even sit down to read. Her lab coat was still clutched in her hand, although her jacket was hanging up neatly on the coat rack.

"Dr. Saroyan and Dr. Hodgins were able to find a match to the injection of shifting factors that caused Maria to go into a premature shift," Brennan told him without looking up from the report. Booth wondered if she _assumed_ that he was the one who walked into her office, or if she somehow _knew_ that he was there, just like he always knew if she walked into a room. Just as Booth completed the thought, he answered his question. Bones wouldn't assume.

"They matched it to a pharmacy or a doctor?" Booth asked, propping his hands on his hips.

"Neither," she answered, looking up at him. She pointed to the report. "They found the pharmaceutical company that manufactured it. But the company supplies most of the hospitals, doctors' offices, and pharmacies in Virginia and West Virginia, Maryland, Delaware and Pennsylvania. It will be difficult to narrow it down any further."

"Yeah, well, I'll give the info to the FBI and see if they can find anything in their databases. Cases stolen, reported missing, lost or destroyed, that sort of thing," Booth said, taking the papers Brennan handed to him. He flipped the papers around in his hand, sneaking glances at Brennan. "So, do you have any missed calls on your cell?" he asked, fishing for more info. Thinking about unknown persons calling Brennan made a sick dread build in his stomach.

Brennan looked at her phone in confusion. "No," she said, "Should I?"

"Oh, no, I guess," Booth stammered. "I mean, I didn't call you, of course."

"Oh," Brennan said, still as confused as before. She dismissed it after a moment and turned her attention to putting on her lab coat.

"Lemme help you with that," Booth said. He dropped the file on her desk and moved swiftly behind her. He'd helped her on with her jacket or lab coat on occasion before, but this time felt different for both of them. He guided her lab coat up her arms and softly pulled her hair out of her collar. Brennan buttoned up her coat slowly, almost afraid to turn around and see what Booth looked like. His smell was already intoxicating and seductive. Booth still kept his hands on her collar, making sure it was folded perfectly. Brennan cleared her throat, and the small noise broke Booth out of his contemplation of how good her hair smelled.

"I should take another look at the bones," Brennan said, her tone edging on apologetic.

"Yeah, right," Booth said eloquently, stepping back and pulling on his ear lobe. "I'll let you get to it. But, uh, I'm picking you up at 5:00 sharp."

"That gives me less than two hours!" Brennan protested.

"Ugh, you're going to do that thing where you put your music on and just let the bones speak to you for as long as it takes, aren't you?" Booth asked.

"I am going to look for anomalies, yes," Brennan said, "Any information could potentially be useful at this point."

"And it takes more than two hours at one time?" Booth asked with his head tilted disbelievingly. Although he knew that she would stare at the bones for hours and hours, all night if someone let her, forgetting time and people and where she was, he also knew that even she needed to take a break. He saw her waver slightly and pounced on her hesitation, "You'll spend some time with the victims and then come back tomorrow morning with fresh eyes."

Brennan shifted her weight as she came to a decision. "My eyes will not have changed in any significant way, barring an accident," Brennan said defiantly. But they both knew that when Booth came to pick her up, she would go home. Booth smiled and clicked his tongue against his teeth.

"I'll see you in a couple, Bones," he said with a smile.

"Yes, I will see you then, but I will make the decision to leave or not at that time," Brennan argued.

"Yeah, but I know you, Bones," he said, grinning knowingly, "You won't pass up the chance to lecture me on my pre-shift eating habits. You'll come with me to dinner and nag me about what I order. Hey, I might even let you choose my meal tonight if we leave on time."

"I'll consider that when making my decision," Brennan said, eyes sparkling. They parted ways with smiles on their faces.

While Booth went to find Suarez and Sweets, Brennan went to the platform and stared down sadly at the clean, white bones laid out precisely on the two lighted tables. Someone, probably Angela, had placed pictures of Maria and Roberto at the foot of the remains. Maria's photograph showed a vibrant, smiling girl with a bright colored dress and a red flower behind her ear. Roberto didn't have a photograph, but Angela's sketch made him seem friendly and likeable. Brennan glanced at the pictures, taking in the information before turning her attention to the individual bones of Roberto's skeleton.

One by one, she picked up the small bones of the wrist, the carpal bones held delicately while she examined each one. Each bone told a story, each piece sharing a clue about how Roberto lived, what he did, and how he died. The struggle against his bonds was clear on the carpals, and Brennan imagined them grinding together as he tried to loosen the duct tape that bound his hands together.

Placing the bones of the wrist into sequence, she moved to the radius and ulna. The muscle attachments on the bones of his forearms showed that he was strong and able. Given his strength, it seemed strange that he didn't have more defensive wounds. The marks on his ribs and face showed that he was beaten badly, but he was unable to block the blows with his arms. Logically, Brennan had to conclude that they were secured behind his back to prevent him from defending himself during his beating. She looked carefully for information that showed how he was subdued. A man as strong as Roberto should have been difficult to control, but the lack of defensive injuries to his arms made Brennan doubt that he had fought back until after he was restrained.

Brennan pictured Leo Ramones finding the object of his obsession with another man. Shapeshifter customs dictated that a challenge would commence, one man against the other to determine which shapeshifter won Maria. However, Roberto wasn't a shapeshifter, and Ramones wasn't the typical pack member she had assumed him to be. Taking that information in to account, a formal challenge didn't fit the parameters of Roberto's murder. A more likely scenario would be that the victim or victims were threatened, restrained, and then beaten before being killed. Whether or not Ramones was involved rested on evidence that was out of their reach at the moment, so Brennan concentrated on the evidence at hand.

Bit by bit, she examined each piece of the skeletal structure that made up Roberto Martinez. His tarsal bones showed distress patterns similar to his wrists. The smallest phalange on his left foot showed a slight fracture, but when Brennan examined it closer, she found evidence of remodeling. She dated the fracture to a week before his death, and a probable cause was that the foot applied force at an angle to an unyielding object, such as the corner of a wall or leg of a table. She could see no evidence of any medical treatment, even though it probably caused him pain to put his weight on it. It might have affected how far he could hike into the park. She noted it and continued her assessment.

The ribs were considerably damaged. It was difficult to isolate a specific blow from the damage, but she had Angela's preliminary work on the boot print as well as her own experience to draw from to make a judgment. The regularity of the blows and the similar angle to all of them suggested only one brutal attacker. What she had initially taken for blows from fists were actually kicks made with the ball of the foot where there was a larger surface area for the force to spread out than with the toe of the boot. The kicks made with the toe of the boot did more damage to a concentrated area. The attacker had fractured several of Roberto's ribs with overlapping kicks. Maria had sustained blows as well, but not to the degree that Roberto was beaten.

Brennan hovered over the ribs, carefully studying the impact fractures with both her eyes and her gloved fingers. The pads of her fingers found slight fractures that she could see with magnification. She isolated a single blow made with the ball of the foot. She studied it with her naked eyes and then under magnification, pulling any data she could from the mark. The impression wasn't evenly distributed over the surface of the ribs. Bent over the bones, Brennan worked meticulously to classify the difference in depth of the markings, extrapolating from there to draw conclusions about the attacker. She lifted her head curiously, blinking away her light trance as Hodgins bounded onto the platform.

"Well, I couldn't pull out any particulates from the bones that might pinpoint where the killer might have been before he came into Rock Creek Park," Hodgins said as he used the monitor that displayed 10X magnification of the impressions of the ribs to show his own set of data. Brennan narrowed her eyes as she took in the information Hodgins had compiled. Hodgins shrugged his shoulders as he explained, "All these particulates are from the area surrounding the crime scene or can be traced to the farm where Roberto Martinez worked."

"What about on the duct tape?" Cam said as she followed Hodgins onto the platform at a more sedate pace.

"I did find traces that probably came from a pair of work gloves," Hodgins told her. "But again, it's the same story. Pollen, bark, soil…all the traces point back to Rock Creek Park."

"It sounds like our killer was living in the park," Cam speculated. "Is that even possible?" she asked Brennan.

"A shapeshifter could, potentially, live for an extended period in a federal wilderness area. I lived in the Theodore Roosevelt National Park in North Dakota for several months a few years ago, but I spent most of my time in my jaguar form," Brennan told them as she turned back to study the impressions on the ribs. She didn't see the raising of Cam's eyebrows or Hodgins' impressed smile.

"The park has to keep records of that, right?" Hodgins asked.

"Not necessarily," Brennan countered. "Many local packs are allowed access to the park without having to report it to the park rangers. Usually they keep track in their pack records, but it might be informal recordkeeping."

"The local pack in this case being the DC Pack," Cam clarified.

"Yes," Brennan said unnecessarily.

Cam sighed. "I suppose we should tell Booth," she said tiredly.

"Tell me what?" Booth said as he let himself onto the platform with his access card. Sweets wandered off to look for Daisy, mumbling something about checking on her.

"We think the killer might have been living in or near the park for some time before he killed Roberto and Maria," Cam informed him.

"Well, I brought over Ramones' x-rays," Booth said, holding up the long manila folder. "Maybe that will narrow down our suspects." Brennan moved quickly to intercept the x-rays before Cam could take them, very territorial about all things related with bone. She let one of the empty lighted examination tables replace the light box as she studied the x-rays. "What's the word, Bones?" Booth asked as they waited.

"Which word are you asking about?" Brennan asked, perplexed at his figure of speech.

"Is Ramones lying about which form he was in?" Booth asked.

"I'm afraid not, Booth," Brennan said grimly. "If this time stamp is accurate, then he has shifted from his animal to his human shape within 14 days."

"Damn," Booth said without heat, "I was hoping we could catch him in a lie."

"He could still be involved," Brennan argued, looking doubtfully at the x-rays.

"I don't think so," Booth sighed. "I guess it's back to the drawing board."

"If you need a drawing, then we could ask Angela," Brennan said helpfully. Booth smiled at her as Cam tried to hide her grin.

"I guess now is the time to inform you that Angela and I are leaving for the day," Hodgins said. "Angela is exhausted and we're both hungry. But I'm still sorting out particulates, so I'll leave the tests running. I can have more tomorrow."

"Maybe you can pull a rabbit out of your hat and give us a new suspect to focus on," Booth said bitterly.

"Well, they don't call me King of the Lab for no reason," Hodgins replied cockily.

"I think I'll head home as well," Cam said. "Michelle is having friends over for a study session, and I'd like to be there to supervise."

"Michelle's too smart to get into trouble," Hodgins said with a smile.

"It's not her I'm worried about," Cam said dryly as they made their way off the platform. Brennan took the opportunity to study Ramones's x-rays some more as Booth waited impatiently.

"That is our cue to leave," Booth said, clapping his hands eagerly. "I know it's kinda early for us to grab something to eat, but I think it'd be good to get dinner now, and also pick up something to eat for a midnight snack. What do you think, Bones?"

"I would appreciate some more time to work," Brennan said peevishly.

"Well, beggars can't be choosers," Booth said unsympathetically.

"That makes no sense, as I am well above the poverty level and am not, in fact, begging for anything," his partner replied haughtily. Her tone made Booth grin, even though it annoyed him how she brought up money more often than he would like.

"You sound like you're begging me for more time with your bones, but I gave you until 5 o'clock and it is now…" Booth made a big show of checking his watch, "…5:14."

"I don't like leaving when I haven't made significant progress," Brennan whined. Despite her complaining, she quickly jotted down the observations she had made for the day and secured the lab area. She entered Ramones's x-rays into evidence, signing off on the form that detailed the chain of custody and taking the paperwork that accompanied it with her to her office. Booth sighed behind her at the extra wait, but it was mostly for show. He was actually pleasantly surprised that she was agreeing to leave this early. He had prepared for a fight to drag her out to eat and liked that she was cooperating.

"We're still waiting for all the information to come in, Bones," he soothed. "Everyone needs a break, including you."

Booth loitered outside his partner's office as she packed up for the night. Sweets and Daisy came out from Limbo, Daisy's mouth and hands going a mile a minute as she explained something to her mate. Their body language showed them to be more relaxed than he had seen them in a while, and he felt a burst of pride at the gift that Brennan had given them, despite the difficulties that had cropped up because of their new life.

"Is Dr. Brennan leaving for the day?" Daisy asked hopefully as they drew closer to Booth.

"I am," Brennan told her, shooting an annoyed glance at Booth. He just grinned back happily.

"I have those numbers for you, Agent Booth," Sweets said, handing him a piece of paper. Booth's grin dropped from his face as he studied the numbers. There were three separate phone numbers, but each number had called more than once. Sweets had put the times when the call had come in and how many times each had called. Booth quietly promised the younger man that he would look into it.

"I've finished cataloguing the injuries to Jane Doe 82-3669, Dr. Brennan," Daisy told her mentor eagerly. "You were right about the fracture on the clavicle. It will be helpful in my dissertation."

Brennan nodded as she slung her laptop case stuffed with files over her shoulder. "I trust that you'll revise it and bring it to me when you've added the changes," she said in pure teacher mode. Daisy nodded happily as Sweets stood by adoringly. Sometimes Booth forgot in all the crime solving and whatnot that Brennan was also a teacher, and a good one at that, for all her rough edges.

Daisy turned to Booth, her nostrils flared wide as she attempted to read his scent. With anyone else, sniffing a person would just be plain rude, but with shifters it was accepted as normal. Booth still didn't like it and moved away slightly with a frown.

"If you don't mind me saying so, Agent Booth, you are very overdue for a shift," Daisy said abruptly. Sweets stepped forward slightly when Booth glowered and growled a little under his breath. Daisy continued to move forward, ignoring the warning signs. "Now that you're a part of the pack, even if you aren't a member officially, we could shift together," she said. Although her words were reasonable, there was an uncomfortable sexual undercurrent that made Sweets look troubled and Booth step back in alarm.

In a move that surprised everyone, Brennan inserted herself between Daisy and Booth. The simple move allowed her to show her dominance over Daisy without any other communication. Sweets pulled his mate back towards him, all the while smiling the little smile that he wore when his suspicions were correct.

"Excuse me, Ms. Wick, but Agent Booth and I are leaving for the day. If you have any questions or concerns, please address them to me tomorrow," Brennan said, linking her arm with Booth's. Daisy was properly cowed by Brennan's authority and nodded her acceptance as she stepped back and lowered her eyes submissively.

Booth was shocked, but let himself be pulled along. He was also majorly turned on by Brennan's possessiveness. She was intoxicating, with spit-fire eyes and a smell that he wanted to find on her skin. Although he tried to control his emotions, he knew that he was broadcasting his feelings. He couldn't help it. Booth saw Sweets' eyebrows raise and he met Booth's eyes with a knowing glance. The psychologist would probably poke and prod at them later about it, but for the moment, Booth chose to ignore it.

They bickered on where to eat, but Booth was still a bit dazed from the little confrontation at the lab and let Brennan win without too much argument. He didn't even fight for dessert after he finished his meal. And although they talked and laughed over their dinner as usual, then started for home, both of them knew that something felt different. Change was in the air, and whether or not they were ready, it was about to sweep through their lives.

.

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><p>AN: This was actually the first half of the original chapter I was going to post, so if the break seems abrupt...well, that's because it wasn't supposed to end there. So, Brennan and Booth are going to be sleeping under one roof. Do you think a midnight rendezvous is in order? I'd love to hear what you think!


	19. Awakening

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this chapter, although I had to tone it down a bit. I hope you like it, too. It answers some questions that I've received, but it's mostly fluff and filler. Thank you for your continued support. I was actually blown away by the response to the last chapter. Thank you, thank you to everyone who reviewed and added this story to their favorites and alerts!

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><p><strong>Chapter 19: Awakening<strong>

Brennan followed Booth into his apartment, watching him without seeming to watch as he loosened his tie and shrugged off his suit jacket. He sighed as he ruffled through a hall closet to find a gym bag. He dumped the various pieces of hockey equipment that remained at the bottom of the bag and carried it into his bedroom to fill it with everything he needed for the next couple of days.

Brennan moved down the hall to hover around his bedroom. She tried to breathe normally, surrounded by his enticing scent, rather than greedily breathing in as much as her lungs could hold. Normally she would invite herself into any room of his house, but she was very hesitant to enter his den without his permission. Even though neither she nor Booth were particularly devoted to the customs of shapeshifters, Brennan knew that stepping into his den without being invited would confirm an intimacy that she was not ready to acknowledge.

"You know, I never thought I'd say this, but Sweets and Daisy have more courage than I thought. I mean, compared to the shifters we saw today. They took some bold steps to make a new life for themselves," Booth commented as he packed his bag. He grabbed a casual change of clothes, tossing them to the side to wear to Brennan's place.

"In what way would you consider them to be courageous?" Brennan asked curiously, still hovering outside the doorframe.

"They took a chance on a new pack, whereas both Luis and Sherry stayed with what they knew, even if they were treated like dirt," Booth said with grudging admiration for his friends and sadness for the two young shifters who chose the well-traveled road.

"It is unusual to change allegiances to a strange alpha without some type of familial connection," Brennan admitted. "Sweets and Daisy are rare in that respect." Booth moved into the bathroom, out of Brennan's sight. He changed out of his suit and then began to throw toiletries into his bag, although he put on more deodorant before shoving it into the bag because he needed a little extra edge around his partner.

"Well, maybe that's the difference," Booth said, coming back into sight again. "Daisy and Sweets consider you to be their family, rather than a strange alpha. If you look back, didn't Sweets and Daisy say that they couldn't transfer to another pack because they didn't have any family in the area? Yet they practically forced you to be their alpha because they were more loyal to you than to the shapeshifter who was supposed to be their alpha."

"I find that strange," Brennan confessed, her voice revealing her vulnerability. "I am a very unlikely candidate for anyone to transfer loyalties into my care."

"What are you talking about, Bones?" Booth exclaimed in disbelief. "You're the perfect candidate." When Brennan still looked at him with a disbelievingly, he dropped his bag on the bed and started ticking off reasons on his fingers. "You always tell the truth, no matter what. You're completely loyal when you've decided that something's worth fighting for. You always put your best effort into everything, and when I say best effort, I know that your best effort is above and beyond anyone else's. The pack is not going to be an exception to your high standards. There's tons more reasons why they would choose you, but just those three points would be enough to overlook any customs or traditions that say you're not the perfect alpha for them."

Brennan watched him, taking in the passion behind his words and trying to make it settle in her mind. She was flustered by Booth's praise and she hated that feeling. Her emotions were spiraling out of control and she reined them in harshly. She turned away from Booth and moved to the living room where his scent wasn't as strong.

"Are you ready to go?" Brennan asked, hugging herself as she made the effort to compartmentalize. Booth was slightly confused at her actions, but he hurried to pack the rest of the things he would need for the next couple of days. Brennan took several suits still in their dry cleaning bags from him so that he could have an arm free to draw his weapon if the need arose. She did it without thinking about it, and Booth surrendered them gratefully, feeling better when he could be extra vigilant.

The partners were cautious as they made their way to the car. Neither Booth nor Brennan had seen the red Honda that had followed them during the day, but they were wary of suspicious vehicles. Nothing seemed amiss as they drove to Brennan's place. They parked in her guest space.

"Stay in the car while I check the place out," Booth demanded.

"I am more familiar with the area, so I will be the one to scrape out the place," Brennan said imperiously.

"I think you mean 'scope out the place,' Bones," Booth said, correcting her without getting pulled off track, "And I'm going to be the one scoping out the place. I'm the trained FBI agent with the gun; you're the anthropologist with the ability to find trouble."

"I am very observant," Brennan argued.

"Observe from in the SUV," Booth ordered, getting out of the truck and locking it before disappearing into her building. Brennan didn't wait for him to come back, but got out and followed him.

"Bones!" he said in an outraged whisper.

"Yes?" she said innocently. Booth gritted his teeth, but didn't try to send her back to the truck.

"Stay behind me," he insisted. He asked the doorman if he had seen anything suspicious or out of place, and when he said that all was normal, Booth moved up the stairs to her apartment.

"I think you're taking this a little too far," Brennan commented as she hovered over his shoulder.

"And you're not taking this threat seriously enough," Booth countered.

"There wasn't a threat," Brennan argued placing her hand on his back as he took her keys and began to open her door.

"Some space, Bones?" Booth said sardonically. Brennan pulled back and let him check out the living room and kitchen before following him into her apartment. He disappeared to check her bedrooms and bathrooms before saying, "Clear."

"No overtly threatening messages or actions were made against me, so I'm not sure why you are going to such great lengths when the danger is most likely minimal," Brennan said, taking off her coat. She placed her coat in the hall closet and was a little startled when Booth handed his jacket to her to hang up beside hers. His leather jacket looked at home beside her trench coat, and she shut the closet as if shutting the door on her treacherous thoughts.

"Oh, come on, Bones!" Booth said in exasperation. "Do you have to have a written invitation to tell you to stay away from Delgado's wolves? Let me see…yes! You've already got one!"

Brennan lifted her chin proudly, but didn't respond to his taunt. She turned to go out of her apartment, taking Booth's keys from where he left them on the counter.

"Where are you going?" Booth asked in annoyance, following her out of habit.

"I assumed that you would want to bring your clothing and equipment up," Brennan told him. "And I would also like to retrieve my belongings. Unless you would like to leave it in your vehicle all night…"

"Oh," Booth said sheepishly. He followed her out, making sure she locked up behind them. They took the stairs as Booth pestered Brennan about taking more precautions against Delgado and his henchmen. When they came back to the apartment, Brennan placed her laptop bag and the sack of groceries that they had purchased on the counter while Booth wandered around her place loaded down with his bag and suits.

"Where should I put my stuff?" Booth asked, eying the couch to judge its comfort.

"You can stay in the guest bedroom," Brennan said, unpacking all the unhealthy snacks that Booth had insisted they buy. Booth took his stuff back to the bedroom and Brennan listened to the homey sounds of him moving about. A feeling burst in her chest that Brennan had trouble quantifying. Hearing Booth moving around while she put away groceries felt…right. Like…home. She trapped the feeling ruthlessly and shoved it down, but it left a burning brand behind her sternum.

Booth came out of the guest bedroom a moment later in sweats and a t-shirt holding a stack of folders. Brennan busied herself with tidying up and made some tea. He sat on the couch and spread his work on the coffee table, moving aside a replica of an ancient bronze container to give himself some more space. Brennan brought him a beer and settled at the dining table with her work and a mug of tea. They worked in companionable silence for a few hours, occasionally asking questions or clarifying the timeline of the investigation. Booth took a break in the middle of his work to make a snack for them both.

Eventually Booth wrapped up his work, shoving the papers into their places and cleaning up around his area. He stowed away the paperwork and made a sweep of the apartment, closing the blinds over the windows and checking that the door was locked with the chain in place.

"I miss my TV," he complained.

"You're welcome to borrow a book or listen to the radio or to music," Brennan said, not looking up from her laptop. Booth gave her a disgusted look that Brennan didn't see.

"I guess I'll just go to bed, then," he said dubiously, his expression showing distaste for the idea.

"Goodnight," Brennan said absently. When Booth made no move to leave, Brennan finally looked up. Booth was staring at her with a peculiar look on his face. "Do you need something?" Brennan asked, rising halfway out of her chair.

"No," Booth said quickly, "I don't need anything. Thanks, though." He finally pried his feet from the floor and made his way to bed.

Brennan worked for a little longer, but finally closed her documents and put away her work in its proper folders. She got ready for bed, going through her routine as usual, but she was well acutely of Booth's presence. His scent lingered in the air, making Brennan restless. Her scientific explanations of why his scent was affecting her didn't quell her rising desire for him. She dressed for bed, trying to put him out of her mind, but he was as stubbornly persistent in her mind as he was in her life.

Brennan lay on her back in her bed, trying to relax enough to fall asleep. The temperature was optimal for sleeping, her bed was comfortable, and the noises around her soothed her, but she found that she could not sleep. The man in her guest bedroom consumed her thought processes as completely as he had consumed her daily routine.

"_The man with the heart of a lion_," she remembered the psychic Avalon saying to her.

"_Booth has a lion's heart_," Angela had echoed.

And in her metaphorical heart, she knew it was true both literally at certain times and figuratively all the time. As a symbol, a lion represented courage, bravery, strength and nobility; all qualities of which Booth had an abundance. She put no credence in the words of psychics, but Avalon had been right on several occasions. Brennan idly wondered if Avalon was right about one other thing she had mentioned: "_He knows the truth of you and is dazzled by that truth._"

Her thoughts spun around and around that phrase, her emotions vacillating between extremes of hope and discouragement. In exasperation, Brennan fluffed her pillow again, smoothed her sheets, and lay back down on her side, determinately closing her eyes and willing herself to sleep.

~B&B~

Booth lay on his back in the guest bedroom, watching patterns made by the headlights of passing cars change on the ceiling. His mind ran in circles, first to one thing, then to another. He did everything he could to forget that in the bedroom adjoining his was a woman who made his heart beat just a little bit faster. He had listened to her getting ready for bed and, in a moment of weakness, he imagined that when she was finished, she would slide into bed beside him. The image felt so very real that he had to open his eyes to remind himself where he was and why he was there.

The time had ticked by slowly as he waited to fall asleep. He tried the usual mindless counting and reciting boring stats to make himself sleepy, but nothing was working as his mind kept returning to his beautiful partner. As the hours rolled by, he decided that lying in bed wasn't working.

Booth moved out of the guest bedroom quietly, not wanting to wake Brennan. As a former sniper, he could move very, very quietly when he wanted to. There was a faint light down the hallway and he walked to the living room to find Brennan sitting on the couch with her laptop throwing a bluish light on her face.

"What are you doing up, Bones?" he asked quietly. Brennan jumped and turned quickly, though her mind processed her partner's presence before she could control her body.

"I'm sorry, Booth. Did I wake you?" she asked in concern. Booth laughed a little through his nose and then dropped beside her on the couch.

"Nah, I couldn't sleep," Booth said, rubbing his scalp absently. "You?"

"I couldn't sleep, either," Brennan admitted. She shrugged one shoulder, drawing Booth's attention to the small strap of her nightgown across her otherwise bare shoulder. His eyes swept over her and his mind immediately swerved into dangerous territory. Swallowing, he focused on the computer screen.

"So, what are we looking at?" Booth finally asked.

"This is the x-ray of Roberto Martinez's left hand," Brennan explained, pulling her feet up onto the couch and leaning toward Booth to share the computer screen. Her shoulder rested lightly against his chest and her hair, messily attesting to the time she had spent in bed, tickled his arm as she leaned toward him.

"I, uh, I thought you already looked at that," Booth said, trying to process information while Brennan's scent overwhelmed him. It wasn't even the potent scent that he had smelled before when they had almost gotten carried away at his house the other night. It was just her ordinary, everyday scent, concentrated because she was in her territory and because she just got out of bed. It made thoughts of murders and victims—and everything else, really—fly out of his head at dangerously high speeds.

"Of course I looked at it, Booth." Brennan's offended tone cut through his haze, though she didn't move away from him. In fact, she shifted slightly closer, turning a little so she could face him. Her tone moved from sharp to melancholy. "I saw evidence on the bones of his wrists that he fought against his restraints. I also saw that although it was likely painful, Roberto didn't flinch away from Maria's mouth when she bit him."

"He didn't?" Booth asked.

"No," Brennan said, pointing at the index finger. Booth didn't bother looking at the x-ray, knowing he wouldn't be able to see the distinctions that his partner could. Instead he focused on her long, elegant hand, and the way her slender forearm showed her strength but was also very beautiful. "The bite mark is very precise. There is only the initial impression, no drag marks as there would have been if he had jerked his hand away."

"He must have trusted her very much," Booth commented.

"There is no way I can determine that," Brennan said, moving away slightly. Booth moved with her so that they didn't lose the connection between them.

"You see one thing when you look at the bones, but I see another," he told her softly. "It doesn't mean that one of our views is wrong. We're just coming at it from different perspectives."

"I suppose that could be true," she said. Even though there was no one to wake and no reason to lower their voices, their conversation was quiet, fitting the soft, muffled sounds of the night around them. It made their words more intimate, like a shared secret.

"Do you think…?" Booth began after a pause. He caught the words that were coming out of his mouth before they moved into the air and examined them. He was about to broach a topic that he suspected would be as sensitive for her as it was for him. The pause as he contemplated his question grew.

"Of course I think, Booth," Brennan said jokingly. Booth smiled, but he quickly grew pensive.

"Do you think that Roberto and Maria should have done what they did?" he asked Brennan.

"I don't understand your question," Brennan said with a frown.

"I mean, do you think that they had a right to make Roberto a shapeshifter?" Booth asked in a melancholy way.

"What they were trying to do was illegal and dangerous," Brennan stated in confusion. She knew that she was still missing a critical part of the question, but she had no idea what she was missing. "Considering the fact that if she had succeeded in making him a shapeshifter, he could have died during his first shift with no alpha to stabilize him. And even if Roberto had shifted without problem, Maria would still be facing charges when Roberto joined a pack and registered as a shapeshifter."

"That's true," Booth admitted. He didn't even know why he was arguing with her about this because he agreed with every one of her points. But something in him made him point out the other side. "But by all accounts, they were planning a life together. The only obstacle was the fact that her family wouldn't accept him because he wasn't a shapeshifter. So they took steps that could give themselves the life that they wanted."

"They shouldn't have taken illegal actions to obtain it," Brennan said, but she sounded thoughtful rather than disapproving. "But I believe I understand the reasons behind their decisions. Family is a strong motivator."

They looked at each other wryly, familiar with the lengths they had gone to—and would still go to—for their families. Both their blood families and the family that they chose.

"You know," Booth began quietly, "Parker asked me to make him a shapeshifter."

Brennan regarded him closely. "What did you tell him?"

"The truth," Booth answered pensively. "That I couldn't make him a shapeshifter just because he wanted me to. I said that it was painful and dangerous and I didn't want that for him."

"He regards you highly," Brennan said to ease the melancholy that she felt coming from her partner, "It's no surprise that Parker would want to be like you."

"Well, he was also five at the time and he wanted to be a lion so he could live at the zoo," he said with a smile.

"Do you think you'll have a similar conversation with him again in the future?" she asked him curiously.

"Yeah, I think I will," Booth said, his face tightening. "I haven't told him how I became a shapeshifter. I don't look forward to that conversation."

"I've…never heard the details of how you came in contact with the shapeshifter virus," Brennan commented, looking down at the edge of her laptop. She rubbed a finger against the keyboard without really seeing it as she watched him through her eyelashes. The mood that they were in fostered confessions and intimacies, but she worried that she had stumbled too far. Booth was a private man, and he didn't share past traumas easily.

"It was not a happy time of my life," Booth warned. "I don't like thinking about it."

"No," Brennan agreed forlornly, thinking back to her own sad story.

"The government has those laws in place for a reason," he said, his voice rising to its normal volume. In the still, dark room it felt like a shout. Booth swallowed his frustration and lowered his voice, knowing that he was preaching to the converted. "I never wanted this."

"I wouldn't have chosen to be a shapeshifter, either," Brennan said softly. "There are many things about my life that I wouldn't have chosen."

"I guess you're right," Booth said. "Sometimes you can't help what life throws at you." Silence reigned for a few minutes, but neither Booth nor Brennan rushed to fill it. Brennan's refrigerator started to hum, breaking the comfortable stillness.

"I was 25," Booth said to the air, not looking in Brennan's direction. He took his arm from the back of the couch to sit forward, his hands clasped together as if in prayer, and haltingly continued. "I was just a dumb kid, serving my country; protecting freedom…I was already a veteran sniper, so I thought I knew everything. I had a purple heart from combat. Some other medals, too. I thought I had seen everything there is to see in the world, but really, I was just a dumb kid."

Booth froze up, the muscles in his jaw tightening as his story felt like it was being wrenched out of him. He didn't even know why he had started telling it. Brennan didn't demand to hear it, didn't cajole, didn't even ask him about it, not directly. They sat in silence, just breathing in sync as they struggled with their own demons. It startled Booth a little when Brennan spoke.

"I was also 25 when I contracted the shapeshifter virus," she offered hesitantly.

"I bet you were a hell of a lot smarter than I was, though," Booth joked. His muscles eased a little, his jaw unclenching from its tight knot.

"Objectively, I'd say that my IQ at that age was higher than yours, yes," she agreed seriously. Booth smiled at the typical comment and found the courage to continue.

"I was, uh, captured," he said softly. "And…you know."

Brennan nodded. She had seen his x-rays before, when he was in the hospital. She knew about the torture he had endured. There were some scars that not even a thousand shifts could erase from the bones.

"There was this shifter working with the insurgents, and he claimed he was a descendent of the great Barbary lions," Booth said hoarsely. Brennan had to strain to hear his voice. "He…was a very sick man. And something must have happened while he was…questioning us, because he didn't threaten to change us or anything like that. I don't think he meant to do it, by the way he talked about the great, noble lion killing the dirty American dogs. I didn't even know it had happened until the medics told me later. Even then, I didn't really believe it until my first shift."

He fell silent again, but the silence wasn't quite as intense because the story was out in the open, and neither of the partners had moved from their positions. Booth sighed and leaned back against the couch, rubbing his hands over his face. "It's been a while since it happened. I thought I'd come to peace with it, you know?" he asked, finally looking at her.

"I understand," she said compassionately. "There are times when I actually enjoy being in my jaguar form. And I miss having an enhanced sense of smell when I shift back into human form."

"Yeah," Booth agreed, a smile flirting along the edge of his mouth. "I was a little overwhelmed with all the smells. It was like everything that I could smell as a human divided into a hundred separate scents, and then there were a thousand other smells that I had never known existed. And I know that smells affect me more, now, whatever form I'm in."

"I have that feeling as well," Brennan said, smiling at the memory. "There are facets of shapeshifter life that I do not like, but I enjoy the freedom of being in the natural world in my animal form. I take pleasure in the challenge, and I hold onto those memories when the more distasteful aspects of being a shapeshifter threaten to overwhelm me."

She sighed and put her hand to her neck out of habit, to touch her shifter identification, but instead she touched bare skin. She had taken it off in her preparations to get ready for bed and hadn't put it back on. Booth saw the gesture and touched his own ID tag. It clinked softly against his St. Christopher medal and he had to fight the urge to rip the ID tag off and throw it off Brennan's balcony. It made him irrationally angry that they had to wear it, even if he understood the reasons why they were required to have it on them at all times. All his muscles tightened in an effort to keep still and his fist clenched painfully around the tags.

Brennan felt the change in his body and Booth could feel her watching him. Hesitantly, she touched his bicep lightly and rested her head against his shoulder with such tenderness that Booth had to stop breathing for a moment to hold in all he was feeling.

"I am sorry that you had to endure such pain," she said softly.

Booth closed his eyes. Her words and actions were a balm to his very soul. In that moment, everything was perfect. His heart couldn't contain his contentment and it spilled over into the physical world as a low hum deep in his chest. Brennan stilled for a moment as her mind processed the sound, then looked up at him with a sweet, mischievous smile.

"Booth, are you purring?" she asked, holding on tightly to his arm. Booth jerked forward in indignation.

"Lions do not purr. I do not purr!" he exclaimed. Brennan laughed a low, husky laugh.

"I have been known to purr on occasion," she stated with a smile. Booth turned his head sharply to study her. She had said that tantalizing phrase so matter-of-factly that he didn't know whether she was informing him of that fact or actually flirting with him. He didn't want to act on it until he knew for sure which one it was.

"Well, I do not purr," he repeated emphatically.

Brennan laughed again, a wonderfully adorable, happy sound, and laid her head back on his shoulder. She yawned deeply, and sighed in contentment, rubbing her cheek against the sleeve of his t-shirt sleepily. Booth swallowed down his impulses. She was crossing his wires on every level and she didn't even know it. But her yawn was catching and Booth found himself yawning as well, his eyes growing heavy as he realized the time.

"Do you think you'll be able to sleep if you go back to bed?" he whispered into her fragrant hair. She nodded against him and he had to fight to keep his touch partnerly.

"How about you?" she asked, her gentle voice soft with sleep.

"Yeah, I'll sleep," he said softly as she smiled sweetly at him.

He took her laptop and set it on the coffee table as she lazily closed it without exiting out or shutting down. They helped each other stand and made their way down the hall to the bedrooms, lightly touching the entire time. As they got to their respective doors, each paused for a moment, looking at the other. The possibilities raced between them: so tangible that all it would take to make them real was a single word or touch and so desirable that each felt the certainty that their eventual union was inevitable. But that night…

That night was not the time for life-altering decisions, and they realized it with a hint of sadness.

"Good night, Booth," Brennan whispered, opening her bedroom door reluctantly.

"Sweet dreams, Bones," Booth responded.

They moved to their separate beds, but it was peaceful. They drifted to sleep with the certainty that their partner would be there in the morning. Though nothing had really changed, the potential had shifted. Something beautiful was awakening.

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><p>AN: I hope you're not mad at me for ending it the way I did. Don't worry, more stuff will happen before the inevitable. This is definitely a B&B story. To 1Kiko: I hope you liked the way I hinted at your request for Brennan to purr. I was going to have her purr in this chapter, but I liked the tease better.

Thank you so much for reading, and please let me know what you think!


	20. Connecting the Dots

A/N: I hope you're impressed with how quickly this chapter went up. Don't hold your breath for the next one, though. That being said, I'm hopeful that things will move forward quickly to the end.

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><p><strong>Chapter 20: Connecting the Dots<strong>

Their morning was quiet and easy. By unspoken consent, they decided not to talk about what had passed between them the night before. It was too special to be ruined by words and they would build on it without dissecting it. Other than Booth interrupting Brennan's yoga practice to ask if she had remembered to get brown sugar, their routines meshed very well.

They were able to get out the door and to work in time to meet Daisy and Sweets at the lab. Daisy and Brennan moved to the platform to gather more information from the victims as Booth and Sweets left for the Hoover building.

"Did Daisy get any more of those calls?" Booth asked as they drove over. It felt odd to have Sweets sitting in the front seat instead of Brennan, but Booth suppressed the urge to tell him to get in the back.

"No, everything was quiet last night," Sweets said. He looked at Booth appraisingly. "How was your night?"

"It was fine," Booth said flippantly. He wasn't about to talk about the midnight heart-to-heart he shared with Bones with the nosy psychologist.

"Any new leads about the threat to the Alpha?" Sweets asked. Booth wondered why Sweets would refer to Brennan as "the Alpha" instead of by name. The title rolled off the psychologist's tongue so easily that Booth thought that maybe Delgado had lost Sweets to Brennan's leadership long before if Sweets was that comfortable with calling Brennan his alpha. He put it down in his mind for later and answered the question.

"Nothing so far," Booth said. "I haven't had a chance to look through security footage from the Jeffersonian."

"Perhaps I could help," Sweets offered. "One of my standing appointments was canceled, so I have some time to work on it."

"Okay," Booth agreed, knowing that Sweets would be diligent about finding the threat to Bones. "I'll bring it over."

They arrived at the Hoover without problems. Sweets and Booth parted ways at the elevator. Suarez was waiting for Booth when he got to the office.

"Took your time, didn't you?" Suarez mocked. Booth took the joking in stride as he moved into his office, Suarez trailing behind him.

"What do you have for me?" Booth asked, settling his things on his desk. Suarez handed him a paper and spoke while Booth scanned the information.

"I ran a search on the other weapons stolen from the ATF. You remember the gun used in the drive-by shooting that was never recovered? The victims—" Suarez made a dramatic pause as Booth looked up from the report, "—were shapeshifters."

"You think there's a connection?" Booth asked.

"Yeah," Suarez said. "I know that there is a connection. We just have to find it."

"Did you look at John Stanton to see if he was connected with Mara Muerte or the DC Pack?"

"I couldn't find any connection there," Suarez admitted. "But he sounds familiar, and it's too much of a coincidence that the victims were connected to him and found close to his property. And Luis called him creepy."

"None of that could be submitted in court," Booth said absently as one of his junior agents came into his office with a stack of paperwork. He pulled his focus back to Suarez. "You work on this angle," Booth said, gesturing to the paper in his hand, "Dig through your old files to see if anything pops."

"Will do," Suarez said as he left.

Booth took the paperwork from his agent and plopped it unceremoniously on his desk. He gathered the security feed from the Jeffersonian's parking garage and wrote a brief description of the car and the people to watch for. Booth figured that Sweets would probably be better equipped to notice a member of the DC Pack slipping into the garage than he would, anyways, so he turned it all over to the agent to give to Sweets.

Finally alone in his office, Booth sat in his chair with a sigh. He twisted back and forth in his chair, testing out the pain in his back. It wasn't as bad as it had been the day before. He wondered if it had been the night spent at Bones' place or if it was due to the pheromones or whatever that an alpha gave off. If that was the draw of living in a pack, he might be willing to pay it, even if the price came attached to Daisy and Sweets. Whatever the reason, he was feeling optimistic and dove into his work with a zeal that had been missing the past week.

The first thing he focused on was the three numbers that were calling Daisy's phone. It could be nothing, but it could also be the beginning of a terrorist campaign against the new pack. If there was any danger, he wanted it stopped before something happened.

He checked into them, finding that two of the phones were pay-as-you-go cell phones, paid for with cash, and the third number was from a pay phone in the downtown area. He went ahead and called the numbers, but the cell numbers went to voice mail that didn't have a name attached, and the pay phone rang without ever being picked up. Having hit a dead end on the numbers, Booth set it aside and tackled the mountain of paperwork that had built up while he was focusing on the case.

Midmorning Booth came to a stopping point in his paperwork. He was not excited about starting a new batch, so he pulled out his phone, hoping the squints could give him something else to work with. Leaning back in his chair casually, he called his favorite squint with a smile on his face.

"Hey, Bones," Booth said happily when she answered her phone.

In the background he heard her tell someone, "It's Booth on the phone."

"Did I catch you at a bad time?" he asked, his disappointment catching him by surprise.

"No, I believe that this would be quite an appropriate time for you to call because I have more information for you about the victims," she said. Booth's spirits rose considerably, even though they were talking about a murder investigation.

"Then spill it," Booth demanded, sitting forward and finding a pen and some paper so he could jot down notes if he needed to.

"Due to the slight rotation of the depressions on the boot prints we've found on the victims, I believe the attacker has an injury to his right knee. It's most likely a torn meniscus, as that is the most common knee injury. It would be painful without being disabling, and is likely a chronic problem that he has to compensate for," she told him.

"How does that help us? If we had a pool of suspects to use that information to narrow them down, then it would help," Booth said grumpily. He was frustrated with the investigation because their lead suspect alibied out.

"I'm sure we'll find another suspect to focus on," Brennan said placidly. Her confidence in their abilities made him smile. "However, any information will help build our case."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Booth said, feeling better just for talking to his partner.

"Of course I'm right," Brennan stated confidently. "We will have more about the particulates on the victims soon. Hodgins says that things are 'cooking,' which may or may not be literal. I'm uncertain about that, but I'm taking it to mean that he has tests which are in the process of gaining results."

"Alrighty, then," Booth said, reluctant to hang up the phone. He leaned back in his chair, his mind spinning with ways to simultaneously keep his partner on the phone and also avoid feeling like he was procrastinating at the same time. "Have you seen anything suspicious around the lab?"

"Ms. Wick seems to have trouble remembering the general rules of personal space, but other than that it has been a normal, productive day," Brennan answered.

"Go easy on the girl, Bones," Booth said in amusement. "She's with an alpha that cares for her. It's a novel experience, and she's likely to be a little over the top right now."

"I will be glad when her rotation is over," Brennan confided into the phone. "Perhaps she needs time to reflect on personal and professional boundaries."

"That's probably it, Bones," Booth said reassuringly, although he sensed that it was part of Daisy's personality to cling to any authority figure that gave her attention. Now that Brennan had a double portion of authority, Daisy would have double the enthusiasm toward her. But he kept his opinion to himself.

"I should get back to work," Brennan said apologetically.

"Yeah, me too," Booth sighed. "Keep me posted."

"I will," she promised. They ended the call without any more words exchanged between them.

Brennan sighed as she placed her phone back in her pocket. It was an odd feeling, hiding in her office from one of her interns. She didn't enjoy it, so she straightened her back and strode confidently to the platform. Daisy looked up in raptures.

"Dr. Brennan, has Agent Booth found anything that we should consider in our analysis of the victims?" Daisy said perkily.

"No, he was calling for an update on our findings," she said, hoping that her intern would tone down her enthusiasm if she heard a negative answer. It didn't work. Daisy continued on about how she would work harder to find something of value to the investigation.

"You could focus more effectively on the remains if you were silent," Brennan said out of desperation. Cam heard her and smiled, although she put her face down to the folder she was carrying to cover her smile. Daisy took the hint and bent over her work. "Have you made a timeline of the remodeling on the radius and ulna of the female shapeshifter?" Brennan asked.

"I noted that the bite marks had undergone little remodeling, which, combined with the knowledge that she shifted recently before her death because of an injection of shifting factors, shows that she was bitten within twenty-four hours of her death," Daisy said.

"I would like to construct a timeline of the remodeling," Brennan said, "I think the exact sequence of injuries could be important."

"I'll get on it right away," Daisy responded enthusiastically.

Brennan didn't believe in the idea of "busy work". When she assigned a task, it was because that task would accomplish something useful in and of itself. But she had to admit that her primary focus in giving Daisy the assignment was to cause her to think about something else rather than their personal lives. However, Brennan refused to feel guilty about it. Daisy's work would accomplish something, and if it kept her from chattering, then it was even better.

After several minutes of working in blissful silence, Hodgins came to the platform without his usual bounce. "Hey Dr. Brennan," he said in a subdued greeting.

"Dr. Hodgins," Brennan responded, splitting her focus so she could examine the skeleton as well as hold a conversation with him. "Did you do as Booth suggested and 'pull a rabbit out of your hat?'" she asked. Her nose wrinkled as she thought about it. "Although I hope that if you do keep rabbits at the lab, they are not kept in a hat but in a secure hutch designed for animals."

Her little aside made Hodgins smile, but his face moved back into dismay. "I've been over the particulates several times. There're tons to sort through, but they're all pointing back to the area where the victim lived, worked, and where he was found. I mean, look at this," he said, pulling the monitor around so that they both could see it. His results filled the screen and he began to scroll through them. "Pollen from the _Brassica oleracea,_ a strand of fur from _Canis latrans_, a crushed carapace from _Oxidus gracilis_, as well as traces of fescue hay, dung from _Equus caballus_, _Bos taurus_, and other farm animals, diesel fuel…"

Brennan could see that he was only naming about one in four of his finds. As the names and pictures of the particulates scrolled by, Brennan pointed to one that stood out to her. "Wait, what is that one?"

Hodgins scrolled back up the screen and highlighted the one that Brennan referred to. "That's a new biodegradable grease called LGGB 2 that's used on construction and farming equipment. Our victim could have come in contact with it at the farm."

"But you found it in the boot print on one of the victims' ribs?" Brennan asked, looking at the title that he had placed above his results to keep the findings from being mixed.

"Yeah, that's from one of Roberto Martinez's ribs," Hodgins said. "But he could have had it on his clothes if he worked with the equipment."

"From what Booth said, the victim didn't work with the heavy equipment," Brennan told Hodgins.

"Then how did it get on his clothes?" Hodgins asked.

"The farmer that the victim worked for owned a farming equipment rental business with his brother. Servicing heavy equipment could cause lubricant to cling to work boots," Brennan said meaningfully, her eyes sparkling. Hodgins caught that sparkle and shook his head.

"If I weren't so tired, I would have caught that," he lamented to himself, sad that he couldn't legitimately claim to be the King of the Lab.

Brennan decided to give Booth the news in person so that she could be there in case he decided to go question the farmer. "I'll tell Booth," she said as she tore off her gloves excitedly and eagerly left the platform.

Without thinking, she gathered her things and made her way to her car before remembering that Booth had driven her to work. Annoyed at the situation, she thought about calling a cab. But if she called a cab, she would have to endure ranting and raving about her safety from Booth. Her options in the lab to give her a ride were limited to either her intern or Hodgins. She went directly to Hodgins' station.

"I would like you to drive me to the FBI building," she stated. Hodgins smiled eagerly.

"Are you and Booth going to arrest the farmer?" he asked, standing up and whipping off his lab coat.

"If Booth can get a warrant for his arrest, then I believe we will arrest him," she said. Hodgins grabbed his keys.

"I'll ask to take samples around the farm for comparison. That should at least get you into the place to look around," he offered enthusiastically. He grabbed the plastic blue box with the Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab symbol on it and raced to tell Angela where he was going. With a quick kiss to his wife, he sped out of the lab with Brennan on his heels.

Booth looked at his partner askance when she showed up with Hodgins in tow. "What are you doing here, Bones?" he asked. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Hodgins. "Did you come with Hodgins in his tiny car?"

"That isn't relevant," Brennan said dismissively. She turned to Booth excitedly. "We've found something."

"What a coincidence," Suarez said as he came into Booth's office, "So did I."

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><p>AN: Thank you for all your thoughts on the last chapter. I am so happy that this story still has a great, responsive audience. You're amazing!


	21. Developments

A/N: Warning: this chapter has not been edited. It is hot from the keyboard, but I wanted you to get it posted sooner rather than later. If you find any mistakes, please tell me. And as always, enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 21: Developments<strong>

"Well, Bones?" Booth asked impatiently, still looking sideways at Hodgins. "What did you get?"

Brennan nodded to Hodgins for him to explain, which he did eagerly. "I found traces of a grease called LGGB 2 that's used on farming equipment in areas around protected wilderness areas because of its low toxicity. It was in the boot imprint on Roberto Martinez, so it most likely came from the attacker's boot," he said. Booth caught on quickly.

"And John Stanton and his brother rent out farm equipment that would use this grease," he stated.

Hodgins nodded and continued his explanation, "All the particulates I found on both victims came from the area where they were found and the farm where Roberto worked. Because Maria had recently shifted, sloughing off the particulates with her skin, I concentrated on Roberto to find the traces that the killer left."

"Roberto wouldn't have come in contact with the grease unless it was introduced by another person," Brennan chimed in, cutting to the chase, "And the particulates wouldn't have been lodged in the bones unless they came from the attacker."

"That brings me to my news," Suarez said with a bloodthirsty smile. When he had everyone's attention, he continued, "I was looking through my old files and I came across an interesting tidbit. I found out why the nameStantonwas so familiar. "

"Is he connected to the DC Pack?" Booth asked.

"Not that I could find," Suarez said, shaking his head, "But I did realize that one Mark Stanton was in the ATF and was investigated in relation to the missing firearms. Internal Affairs cleared him, but there were always unanswered questions concerning his role in their disappearance. He was the only one who had access to all the weapons, but they didn't find the weapons until years later. He took an early retirement the year I was a rookie."

"Any relation to John Stanton?" Booth asked impatiently.

"Mark and John are brothers," Suarez stated proudly. "Brothers who just happen to own a farming equipment rental company that has your special grease."

"Do you think that Mark Stanton is our killer?" Booth asked.

"I would think Mark was the killer over his brother. His wife left him last year and took their daughter with her. The divorce was finalized two months ago," Suarez said, nodding at Booth and handing him the file. "Now his current address is his brother's farm where your squints say the killer was."

"That could be the trigger," Booth commented. "The emotional turmoil of the divorce could have brought up all those bad feelings and he decided to take it out on a couple he thought no one would miss."

"But get this," Suarez said, leaning forward eagerly, "Their daughter registered as a shapeshifter last year. Right around the time his wife decided to leave him. I think they live inMontanaor something, now. Talk about one hit after another."

"Sweets did say that there was most likely a shapeshifter in the family," Booth murmured as he read through the file.

"I guess that's how he had an injection of shifting factors," Hodgins commented. Brennan nodded in agreement.

"That certainly would explain his possession of the medication. An adolescent's first shift can be eased by an injection of shifting factors, so a doctor will prescribe the drug and advise the guardians on its use," Brennan said.

"So he used it on Maria to force a shift from a wolf to a human," Booth theorized. "With all the shapeshifters inRockCreekPark, he probably wanted to make sure that he was getting the right one."

"It's a good theory, but it's still circumstantial," Brennan reminded them.

"It's enough for me," Booth said decisively, "Let's go pick him up."

The four made their way to Booth's SUV, even though Booth grumbled about why all four of them had to go. They were too busy establishing the pecking order on the way to the truck to listen to his moaning. Booth and Brennan claimed the front seats with no contest, establishing themselves as the dominant pair. Suarez and Hodgins glared menacingly at each other, neither the cop nor the squint giving way, until they were seated side by side in an uneasy truce which held all the way to the farm.

The tires crunched on the gravel driveway as he pulled the truck up next to a battered old pickup and a Jeep Wrangler in front of the house. Everyone got out of the car, looking around warily. Hodgins took several deep breaths, as he pulled his kit out of the car.

"Smell that?" he said almost giddily. Suarez looked at him suspiciously.

"Are you one of the shifters, too?" he asked in a low voice.

"Not at all," he said, still in glee. "I just have a highly trained nose. And I smell animals, fescue hay, and diesel fuel."

"We're on a farm, dumbass," Suarez said.

"Those are all particulates I found on the boot prints," Hodgins said, not daunted by Suarez.

"Listen," Booth said commandingly. "Squints, leave the cop work to the cops," he said, gesturing between himself and Suarez. He turned to his fellow agent. "Suarez, leave the squint work to them. They're the best at what they do."

All four of them arranged themselves on the porch as Booth knocked on the screen door. They waited impatiently while John Stanton came to greet them. "Hey, Agent Booth," he said in confusion, looking at the crowd through the screen.

"Mr. Stanton," Booth said grimly. "Is your brother Mark here?"

"Yeah, he's around back," John said, unlatching the screen door and joining them on the porch. "You need his statement or something?"

"Something like that," Booth said noncommittally.

"What happened to that young feller that was with you? The one that looked like a school teacher?"Stantonasked as they walked.

"Dr. Sweets is a criminal profiler and doesn't often work in the field," Booth explained. "My partner, Dr. Brennan and her associate Dr. Hodgins, as well as Agent Suarez are working with me on the case."

John nodded congenially and led them toward a large barn behind the house. In the pasture by the barn, Booth could see several cows meandering around the field, chewing their cuds. The clearing allowed them to see the lay of the land, and Booth and Brennan recognized the rising hills ofRockCreekParkin the distance. It would be easy for someone to hike from here to where the bodies were found, even hampered by injuries.

As they passed the barn, Hodgins took a deep breath. "Do you use LGGB 2 to lubricate your equipment?" he asked.

"Yeah, we do," John said proudly. "It was better for us in the long run, so we made the switch. It has a distinctive smell, though, don't it?"

"Sure does," Hodgins said with a smile. He smirked at Suarez, who ignored him. "Would you mind me taking samples from your equipment and the area around your farm?"

"What fer?" he asked suspiciously.

"I'd like to have a baseline comparison for some of the particulates that we found on Roberto Martinez's body," Hodgins said.

"All right, then," he conceded grudgingly, "But I want to be there to make sure you don't damage something or get hurt while you're on my property."

"Fair enough," Hodgins said. "Thank you."

They finally stopped behind the barn where a man was tinkering with an engine propped up on a set of sawhorses. The resemblance between the brothers was obvious, even though the man who had to be Mark Stanton looked older and more grizzled than his younger brother. He looked up when they came into view and slid his hat off to scratch his head. He sniffed dismissively and put his hat back on his head.

"What do you want?" he asked aggressively. He moved out from behind the work station, wiping his hands on an oil rag. Brennan grabbed Booth's elbow and leaned towards him.

"His right knee shows signs of a past injury. Do you see the way he compensates for it?" she said quickly. Booth didn't see the subtle signs that were obvious to her, but he nodded anyways, trusting her judgment. He focused on Mark Stanton, but also kept John in his sights. You never knew how the family would react when their loved one was threatened.

"Mark Stanton?" Booth said, stepping forward. "I'm Agent Booth of the FBI, and this is my partner Dr. Brennan. Agent Suarez and Dr. Hodgins are here to assist us in investigating this case."

"You can turn right around and assist yourself off my property," Mark said angrily.

"Don't pay him no mind," John said apologetically. "He gets in these moods. He's been in one ever since Robbie disappeared."

"We'd like to verify your whereabouts on the day Roberto Martinez disappeared," Booth said professionally.

"Yeah, well, I can't. You gonna arrest me?" he answered belligerently.

"Arrest him, Booth," Brennan said into Booth's ear. "His height and weight are within the attacker's specified parameters and his shoe size corresponds as well. Look at the boots. They're very similar to the ones worn by the attacker. If we could have access to his boots, we could find conclusively if he attacked the victims."

"Mr. Stanton, I'd advise you to cooperate," Booth said, letting Brennan know that he had heard her but telling her to wait.

"I can tell you where to put your advice," Mark grumped. "I know what this is. You're fishing for information because you don't have anything and you want to make me your prime suspect. Well, look somewhere else for your suspect."

"Evidence has placed you at the scene," Booth warned.

"I was never at the scene," Mark objected, "In fact, I was never near that mountain."

"Yes, you were," John said in confusion. "You went out looking for Roberto after he disappeared, remember? You were out in the park for at least two weeks. You said that he might have just gone hiking and gotten lost since the park was so close to us even though I told you he broke his toe and wouldn't want to hike." Mark shot his brother a glare out of the corner of his eye at his speech.

Brennan and Booth exchanged glances. Suarez caught Booth's eye and nodded in Mark Stanton's direction. Booth's lips thinned as he decided what to do.

"Mark Stanton, I'm placing you under arrest for the murders of Roberto Martinez and Maria Lopez," he said grimly, pulling out his handcuffs. He began reading him his Miranda rights. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

"I know my rights," Mark said, crossing his arms over his chest. Booth reached for his arms to pull them behind his back and cuff him, but Mark backed up.

"Listen, Mark," his brother John said, holding out his hands to calm his brother. "Just go with them for now, but I'll get you a lawyer. Don't say anything until the lawyer gets there. This will be all cleared up in no time."

"Like you know anything," Mark said disparagingly. "I did the world a favor, and what do I get for it?"

Booth reached for him in earnest and Mark backed away and picked up a wrench threateningly. Before he had it at eye level, Booth had his gun out of his holster and pointed at Mark.

"Mr. Stanton, put the tool down," Brennan said as she moved forward, trying to diffuse the situation before Booth had to use his gun.

"Careful, Bones," Booth said through clenched teeth. Brennan stopped just out of Mark's reach.

"I did the world a favor, d'you hear?" Mark shouted bitterly. "These deadbeat werewolves are taking advantage of the system. They were making new werewolves and getting away scot free. Government couldn't do anything. The courts couldn't do anything. So I did something. I was just evening the score a little."

"Put the wrench down and we'll all walk out of here unharmed," Booth said, still holding his weapon trained on him. He didn't want to shoot Mark, but he also didn't want to take a chance that he would take a swing at Brennan.

"Mark, what did you do?" John asked in horror.

"I did what I had to," Mark said, gesturing wildly with his hands. "They made my daughter into a werewolf like them. I know it."

"Mark, you know that Dad was a wolf," John said, his voice rough with pain. "Those genes skip a generation, inherited it."

"No!" he screamed at his brother, his face purple with rage. "My Beth wasn't a damn werewolf! She was poisoned by a werewolf just like that bitch you let on your property!"

Booth used the distraction to move in suddenly. He hit Mark Stanton with a hard blow to the middle, pinning his arm to his chest. He overpowered the older man quickly, knocking the wrench out of his hand and kicking it toward Brennan. She stepped on it, then handed it to Hodgins, who put it into an evidence bag.

"I only did what was necessary," Mark said as Booth handcuffed him.

"You killed a young couple after brutally beating them," Booth said unsympathetically.

"If you knew what I knew, you wouldn't be defending them," he said bitterly.

"You didn't know anything," Booth responded contemptuously.

Mark kept yelling as Booth hauled him away. Booth called the local police to take him to a holding facility. Hodgins and Suarez watched John sit down on an overturned bucket in stupefied horror as his brother was put in a squad car and driven away. It was painful to watch, so Hodgins collected samples, although he didn't think that they would be used if the FBI had a confession. Suarez meandered over to help Booth.

"You know," Suarez said casually when Booth finished talking to the local officer, "I like the way your squints work."

"They get the job done," Booth agreed, taking pride in his people.

"You're good about getting the job done as well," Suarez complimented. He didn't even look in Booth's direction as all four of them headed to the SUV. "So if you, uh, if you need anything, you let me know."

Booth snuck a look at his fellow agent. "I'll do that," he said warmly. "And the same goes for you."

Their conversation was as close as either would come to an apology about how judgmental they had been when they had started working together, but it was good enough for them both. Together their team had caught a killer and hopefully laid to rest two of his victims.

~B&B~

Booth and Brennan sat side by side at the bar at Founding Fathers, nursing their drinks. They both looked tired, but Booth especially looked haggard. Brennan and Hodgins had gone back to the lab to prepare the bodies for burial after they had returned to the FBI building while Suarez and Booth stayed to interrogate the murderer.

"Mark Stanton confessed to murdering Maria and Roberto," Booth said wearily. "And he also said that he supplied the stolen ATF weapons to Humans First, and that they were the ones who gunned down those shapeshifters in a drive-by shooting."

"I'm glad that we could help acquire evidence on a cold case in the course of pursuing justice for Maria and Roberto," Brennan said, rubbing a finger through the condensation on the bar absently.

"That's always nice," Booth agreed.

"I called the owners of the Shifting Lodge," Brennan said, abandoning her drink to cross her arms on the bar.

"What did they say?" Booth asked hopefully.

The deposit on that was non-refundable and they had missed their check-in time by several days. Booth didn't have the same disposable income as his partner, and if they had to pay that deposit again on top of the bill, he was going to have to tighten his belt until his next paycheck. The price for the Shifting Lodge cabins was steep, even when he split the cost with Brennan, but it was worth it. The countryside was absolutely beautiful and the woods were full of wild game. Everyone around knew that the huge predators prowling the area were shapeshifters, so they didn't have to worry about stumbling on a misguided farmer with a shotgun protecting his livestock.

And the cabins themselves… Instead of bare shifting platforms, or a shifting mat like Booth had stashed in his bathroom closet, the cabins came equipped with a whirlpool designed for shifters that gently lifted away the molted skin so the shift was easier and cleaner. The accommodations took into account animal forms as well as human, so that if they wanted to, they wouldn't have to hunt for their food. It was a far cry from shifting on a mat on his bathroom floor or on the dirt of an overhunted wilderness area.

"They said that we could come at any time. They held the cabin for us, and everything is ready for our arrival," she told him with a tired smile. Booth sighed in relief. "I'm sorry that we won't have as much time as we'd planned, but we can leave tomorrow morning and perhaps even shift tomorrow as well."

"Hey, don't worry about it," Booth said. "I'm just glad that we didn't miss our chance."

"Yeah," Brennan said softly. When Booth looked over at her change of tone, he found that she was watching him with a confused look in her eyes. "We didn't miss our chance," she repeated, still in that same soft voice. Instinctively Booth knew that she wasn't talking about their cabin.

"Of course not," he said, smiling happily and nudging her arm with his elbow. She returned his smile, but looked back down at her drink.

"I would like to spend tonight alone," Brennan said abruptly. The change in tone was so sudden that Booth felt like he had mental whiplash.

"Why?" was the only word that would make it out of his stunned mouth.

"I enjoy meditating before I shift. I've found that the mental focus is conducive to an unproblematic shift," Brennan explained. "Your presence is very distracting."

Booth didn't know whether to be flattered that he could distract the great Temperance Brennan, or afraid that she was going to shut him out because she had just realized it. He swallowed the sudden ball of fear that was lodged in his throat and chose his next words carefully.

"Delgado is still a threat to you," Booth said. Brennan's gaze grew dark.

"I'm tired of threats dictating my life," she stated simply. Her voice wasn't angry, but Booth could sense the anger just beneath the surface of her placid demeanor. It wasn't directed at him…yet. Brennan was an independent woman, and she bitterly resented having her freedom curbed, even when circumstances demanded it. Booth understood wholeheartedly, but the protective side of him still wanted to keep her in bubble wrap. The problem was that he couldn't demand that Brennan stay away from anything dangerous if he wanted her to stay the woman he loved. Still, he tried a compromise.

"Why don't I go for a run or something while you're communing with the elements?" Booth said, taking a drink to hide the frantic tone in his voice.

"I don't think that would work," Brennan said honestly, ignoring his playful insult. She wanted to be able to compartmentalize her partner, but she found that she couldn't. Especially not when she could smell his scent lingering in the air and think about him coming in from a run, his muscles loosened, adrenaline rushing through his body and his pungent scent signaling to her body that he was a healthy, vigorous male who was an ideal mate. Her body responded to that thought immediately and she looked away, hoping to hide her expression from her intuitive partner.

"What would work?" Booth asked with a little desperation sneaking into his voice. She straightened her spine and looked him directly in the eye.

"I really think the time alone would be best for me," Brennan said.

Booth wanted so badly to argue. But Brennan looked so drained, so exhausted, that he hesitated. He wanted to keep her safe, but when he examined the feeling, it was selfish. He wanted to stay with her because that's what he wanted, not what was best for her.

"I will take extra precautions when considering my safety," Brennan said to sweeten the deal. Booth sighed, knowing that he shouldn't hold her back.

"I'll take you home," Booth said.

"There's no need," Brennan said, taking money out of her purse to cover both their tabs. "I need to go back to the Jeffersonian, so I'll take a cab. I know you wanted to say goodbye to Parker before you left, and it's already late."

"I have enough time to see you home," he argued, though when he checked his watch, he knew that he was cutting it close as it was. It was a school night, after all.

"No, I am able to get home on my own," she said pleasantly. She smiled at him and the tender smile was so full of relief that he knew that he had made the right decision in letting her have some space. On impulse, Booth grabbed her hand. She squeezed his hand happily, letting her thumb travel over the rough skin on his knuckles.

"I'm going to call you, okay?" Booth said.

"Of course, Booth," Brennan said. "I will keep you apprised of my actions while we are apart. Then I'll meet you in the morning."

"Okay," Booth repeated. He pushed his anxiety down to smile at her. With a final squeeze of her hand, he let go.

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><p>AN: All I'm going to say about the next chapter is this: hang on.


	22. Shifting Gears

A/N: Thanks for staying with me so far. Like I said last chapter, hang on.

By the way, the double colons encasing words denotes something said in shifter sign language.

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><p><strong>Chapter 22: Shifting Gears<strong>

Brennan spent a productive amount of time at the lab. Aside from a run in with Angela, she was alone and able to prepare for her upcoming time away and just think. It helped calm her mind, to be completely alone with her thoughts. This case along with the creation of the new pack had left her little time to simply think in silence. She loved the thrill of working on a case, but it diverted her thoughts to casework. Daisy was a constant, annoying presence at the lab, even in the sanctuary of her office or, on occasion, the bathroom. Booth was very pleasant to be around, but he was a distraction from pure thoughts.

Eagerly packing her files away in the cabinet, she readied her office for her absence and locked up. She called a cab, using the front entrance to the museum, rather than the side door to the lab, in deference to Booth's safety measures. Brennan felt slightly more invigorated as she started going toward her apartment, listening to the music that the cab driver played.

Brennan's phone rang as the cabbie pulled up to her building. She told him to leave her at the parking garage because she had to retrieve her overnight bag from her Prius where she usually kept it just in case. Then she dug in her bag and pulled out her phone, smiling as she saw her partner's name on the caller ID.

"Brennan," she answered.

"Hey, Bones," Booth said in a smooth voice. "Are you at home yet?" In the background she could hear the noise of traffic and imagined him driving home.

"I just arrived," she said, unbuckling her seat belt and gathering her belongings. She paid the driver and got out, heading to the parking garage.

"So you got there safely," he said. Brennan detected a note of nervousness in his voice.

"Of course, Booth," she told him in a matter-of-fact voice.

"Yeah," he said. If it was sarcastic, Brennan chose to ignore it.

"Were you able to see Parker?" Brennan asked.

"No, Becks wouldn't let me come over so late. I understand. It wasn't really a planned thing, since I was supposed to be gone already, and he has school tomorrow, you know," he said sadly. He changed the subject with good cheer. "So, you sure you don't want company?" he asked hopefully.

"Angela is coming over in a few minutes," Brennan said unenthusiastically.

"I thought you wanted a quiet night alone to meditate before we left?" Booth said questioningly, feeling a little betrayed after the big deal she had made of it at Founding Fathers.

"I did," Brennan said earnestly. "But Angela said that she wanted one girl's night before I left so that we could eat ice cream and I could paint her toenails. She also said that I owed her for not telling her that you spent the night at my apartment. Apparently it's against the girl code that she had to hear about it from Hodgins the next day."

She listened to Booth's laugh as she got to her Prius and opened the trunk to retrieve her overnight bag. "It sounds like Angela is a little on the edge and just needs to unwind," Booth told her. "And it's probably the last time you two can have girl time before she has her baby. Just have fun."

"I can try," Brennan said dubiously. "I really would have preferred to spend the evening in meditation and then get a good night's sleep. I know this will ease your mind, though, because you didn't want me to be alone."

With her bag over her shoulder, carrying her kit and laptop bag in one hand while she held the phone to her ear with the other, Brennan fumbled with her keys to lock her car. Tires screeching made her turn in annoyance toward the sound. A white van with dark windows blocked the entrance and exit to the parking garage. She expected the van to back up and perhaps use the entranceway to make a U-turn, but instead the van idled, blocking the oncoming and outgoing traffic. The doors on the passenger side opened and four men jumped out and headed her way, their dog tags winking in the light.

"Booth…" Brennan said in alarm.

"What's wrong?" Booth exclaimed anxiously.

"Four shifters are headed in my direction," she said calmly, assessing the situation. "All male, three Hispanic, one Caucasian. They came out of a white van."

She was across the lot from the exit, and they blocked the way to the street. They were slowly closing in on her purposefully and although she wasn't the best judge of body language, she didn't like the way they were looking at her. She hadn't carried her gun with her and she looked around for something to use if she had to defend herself.

"Bones, you have to yell, scream, do something to attract attention," Booth directed firmly. She heard a chorus of horns in the background of Booth's voice and imagined him pulling recklessly through traffic. "Do something to scare them away."

"I'm on the phone with the FBI," she said threateningly to the four young men. They looked like they were in the same peer group as Luis Lopez. "Estoy hablando con los federales," she repeated in Spanish.

Nervous energy raced through her as they stopped several feet away from her. She moved out into open space, edging toward the building's entrance. One thing she did not want was to be trapped in a space between cars where they could surround her and use their superior strength against her. Brennan's advantage in self defense was that she was quick, lithe and surprising. She was comforted a little to hear Booth turn on the siren over the phone. At least he was on his way.

"Someone help!" Brennan screamed. She felt foolish because they had not yet tried to harm her, but she calculated that feeling foolish was better than possibly getting hurt. But she felt her hopes drop when one of the young shifters smiled nastily.

"You can scream all you want, pretty lady," he said. "We took care of it. Plus, I like it when you scream."

"Hang on, Bones," Booth said in a panicky voice, "I can be there in five minutes."

Five minutes was forever in a fight.

Brennan kept moving slowly toward safety, but another young man moved to cut her off. Brennan let out a controlled breath and let her kit and laptop bag fall to the ground.

"Booth, I'm going to hang up and call 911," she told him.

"Better not do that, lady," the leader said, moving toward her again. Brennan gave him a steely look, the same look that had cowed many of her interns. It didn't seem to affect him in the same way, but he did pause several feet away. He smiled again, making Brennan shiver. "We can do this the easy way or the fun way."

"Those choices don't seem to be in my favor," Brennan commented to the young shifter.

"Do what you have to, Bones," Booth said in a hard voice. "I'll be there as fast as I can. Just hang on."

"Okay," she said softly, hanging up with Booth and shakily pressing 911. She felt a sensation akin to pain when she hung up with Booth, but she knew that she was doing the best thing, and she comforted herself with knowing that he was on his way. The phone rang for what seemed to be an eternity while they came closer, circling around as she inched toward the door.

The shifter nearest to the door pulled a switchblade out of his clothes and extended the blade, gesturing at her with grim excitement. Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement and instinctively moved to avoid a blow. A young shifter with a light blue t-shirt sailed passed her with a wild punch. She took his feet out from under him as he passed and he went down with a thud. It seemed to be a signal, and they all came at her at once. A shifter with wild green eyes and brown hair hit her arm while she was blocking a knife blow and her phone dropped from her suddenly numb hand.

"911, what's your emergency?" a teeny voice said from her phone.

She couldn't answer as her attention was absorbed by multiple attacks. Because they didn't expect resistance, she held them off, keeping them at bay even though she took some heavy blows. Only the shifter with the knife had a weapon. The rest relied on their strength and their numbers to bring her down. With room to maneuver, she devastated them with perfectly executed kicks and well timed punches. Two of the shifters went down under her assault with broken ribs, one from a kick and the other from a blow from her elbow as he tried to attack her from behind. She dislocated one man's shoulder violently as he grabbed her, and disarmed the man with the knife with a side kick. The knife skated under one of the cars, out of reach.

A whistle from the direction of the van broke the sounds of the fight and all of a sudden, they pulled back, breathing heavily. They nursed their injuries as Brennan coldly assessed her situation. Her breath speared her side every time she inhaled, indicating possibly broken ribs. Her left arm tingled from the blow that knocked her phone away, but she could still clench and unclench her fist. She noticed that there was blood soaking her sleeve from a long scratch on her forearm, but she couldn't feel any pain from it yet. She had taken a blow to the cheek and knew that it was bruised and split, but the pain was distant and unimportant as she faced her attackers.

The shifters were surprised at her martial ability, but determined in the face of that fact. Despite their injuries, they looked confident. Brennan gathered herself for another rush, but was confused when they backed away even further. She was relieved until she saw the door to the van open again. A young wolf bounded out, his dog tags tangling in his gray fur. Dread swept over her as she watched him stalk towards her.

"You messed with the wrong pack, lady," the shifter in the blue t-shirt said, holding his side. He smiled as he moved behind the wolf.

Without taking her eyes off the wolf, Brennan picked up her box containing her kit. It was made of hard plastic and was very durable. She hoped that it would give her an advantage. She didn't like her odds in a fight against a young shifter in his wolf form. His form gave him speed and endurance, while his mind gave him the reasoning abilities that an animal wouldn't be capable of.

He growled, sending shivers down her spine. In the shifter sign language, the wolf signed, ::I smell your fear.::

"I see your fear," Brennan answered boldly even though every word stabbed her in the side. She knew that she had to seem strong and she continued brashly. "Delgado sent four men and a wolf to take me down? Is that what a real alpha would do?"

"I wouldn't talk about him if I were you, lady," the blue t-shirt boy said, "We get mad when someone disrespects our Alpha."

"He disrespects himself," Brennan said. She suddenly moved, ignoring the pain in her side as she went on the offensive. She smashed the box as hard as she could on the wolf's snout and took off running for the door. He yelped in pain, but shook it off and came at her with a terrifying growl. She couldn't move her kit fast enough to block him, so she jammed her fist in his mouth. He bit down, hard. But she grimly acknowledged that it was better her arm than her neck, even as she screamed in pain. He shook his head once and her arm snapped. She pushed him away with her good arm and he let go of her ruined arm. He snapped at her good hand, but only grazed her wrist. She kicked out, pushing him away but not able to hurt him.

In the distance, she heard sirens. Through the fog of pain, she knew that Booth was on his way and she had to keep them at bay until then. Cradling her arm against her chest, she backed to the door and safety.

"You can run, bitch, but you can't hide," blue t-shirt said, walking towards her. The wolf stalked in her direction with a hair-raising growl.

Brennan snarled as they moved toward her. She tried to take controlled breaths, but it was difficult with the pain distracting her. When she started taking little sobbing breaths, she gathered all her willpower. She couldn't seem weak in front of these men, even though she knew that she wouldn't be able to hold them off any longer. Every step hurt, but she walked slowly to the door.

Suddenly, Brennan heard a sound that made her blood run cold. "Brennan!" Angela shouted. She turned to see Angela with the windows of her little car rolled down, yelling at her from across the parking lot. Angela couldn't squeeze her car past the van, but her heavily pregnant friend was trying to get herself out of the car. Brennan found a burst of strength and with her good hand, she grabbed the wolf's muzzle. He wasn't expecting her to go on the offensive after such an injury, and he tried to twist out of her grasp. Brennan kicked as hard as she could at the wolf's head. The wolf slid across the concrete in a boneless heap, knocked unconscious by her kick.

Everyone stared at her for a few breathless moments, then everything burst into motion. The rest of the men screamed, then lunged toward her, beating her with furious anger. She had nothing left, and curled into a ball, taking hit after hit. Angela was screaming, and the sirens were getting louder. Another whistle broke the fight, and all the men turned from their brutality and went to the van, the one in the blue t-shirt slinging the wolf over his shoulder and limping to the van. They were gone in a flash, screeching out of the garage and into traffic without a backward glance, but Brennan didn't notice any of it. The world had blurred until she couldn't distinguish one thing from another. The last thing she heard before she passed out was Angela screaming her name.

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><p>AN: I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me for this. Don't worry, there's justice coming. Tell me what you think (of the story, not of me...)


	23. Dire Circumstances

A/N: I hope this will entice you to forgive me for the last chapter.

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><p><strong>Chapter 23: Dire Circumstances<strong>

"I have a female shapeshifter with trauma to the head, pupils uneven. She has severe bruising to the abdomen, possible broken ribs, and fractures to the right radius and ulna," the paramedic called as Brennan was wheeled out of the ambulance into the trauma ward of the emergency room. The team was waiting and pushed her into the prepared trauma room as the paramedic continued cataloguing her injuries. "Animal bites to both forearms." He rattled off her vitals as a nurse attached several machines monitoring her bodily functions.

"BP falling," she announced to the emergency room doctor who was making his own observations. "SS proteins steady."

"Push 2 mg of SF1 solution," he responded, taking the syringe from the nurse and injecting the clear fluid into the IV. "Keep pressure on the lacerations. Hopefully she'll shift and we won't have to stitch. Prep the isolation chamber for an adult shapeshifter."

"No change in SS protein levels," the nurse said, monitoring the readout on the portable computer.

"Another 2 mg," he ordered.

"O2 levels falling. BP holding steady."

"Start her on oxygen."

"Still no change in shifting proteins. Another two milligrams of the shifting factor?"

"What are her shifting stressors? Is there any word on the critical level of shifting factors?" The doctor demanded, grabbing the meager file and flipping through it.

"There's no record, sir," the paramedic explained.

"Get me the next of kin or the health care proxy. Now," he ordered. A nurse hurried to obey the doctor's orders. She didn't have to go far down the hall before she heard shouting.

"Damn it! Her name is Temperance Brennan, and I know she's here because I drove behind the ambulance!" Angela explained loudly to the young girl in royal blue scrubs at the nurses' station. The nurse calmly typed away at the computer, checking the results.

"She must not be assigned a room yet. There is no patient by that name in the system at this moment," she said unhelpfully. Angela turned in frustration, almost in tears, as she heard her name behind her.

"Where is she?" Booth asked in anguish.

"I don't know. They won't let me see her," Angela complained. Booth shot a venomous look at the nurse behind the desk and turned on all the intimidation he could muster.

"I am Special Agent Seeley Booth of the FBI and I need to see my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan. She was just brought to the emergency room for treatment."

"I'm sorry, sir, but as I was just saying, there is no patient by that name in the system yet. When I have more information, I will come and tell you. In the mean time, please feel free to take a seat in our waiting area."

"I'm her medical proxy, and I have information that would be of help to the doctor who is treating my partner."

"Sir, you said you were the health care proxy for Ms. Temperance Brennan?" the emergency room nurse asked Booth. Booth turned to her with some relief.

"Yes, I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth, her partner and medical proxy. Can you please take me to her?"

"You can't see her yet, honey," the nurse said, "But we need to ask you some questions. She is clearly marked a shifter, but we're having trouble inducing her shift. Can you tell us her triggers?"

"Oh, God, I don't know!" Booth wailed, clenching his fists in frustration. "All I know is that she doesn't have the usual triggers and shifts under her own control. I know she doesn't have any type of ritual associated with her shift."

"Booth! You have to get in there. She'll follow your lead," Angela yelled. She ran up to Booth and the nurse, grabbing the sleeve of Booth's jacket to make Booth focus on her. He was staring at the nurse with his nostrils flared widely. He could smell his partner's blood around her like a perfume and it was making him feel sick. Angela pulled on his sleeve and he tore his attention away to look at his partner's best friend.

"Bren will shift if you shift with her. She told me that shifting with you made the transition so much easier. Please! You have to and you know it. With the way she reacts to drugs…" Angela swallowed back her tears and fear.

"I'll get the doctor to speak to you," the nurse assured them. Booth moved to follow her and the nurse stopped him, turning to the nurse at the desk. "Please show them to the private consultation room. The doctor will speak to them there."

Booth and Angela paced the consultation room. It was too small and cramped to really pace, but neither was willing to leave and possibly miss what the doctor would say. They pounced on him immediately when he came in and began speaking at the same time.

"How is she…?"

"The nurse said she wasn't shifting…"

"Excuse me, are you Mr. Booth?" he asked the distraught FBI agent.

"Yeah, I'm Booth," he replied, "The nurse said that she wasn't shifting?"

"Yes sir, the patient is unresponsive to hormonal treatment and there is no sign that she will shift under her own power. Do you know what her shifting stressors are?"

Angela leaned in to make her point. "She doesn't have the normal stressors. But I swear to you that if Booth shifts, she will follow him, even if she's unconscious."

"Oh, are you her Alpha?" the doctor asked Booth, his face showing understanding.

"Hell no," Booth said with a strained chuckle. "She answers to no one but herself. In fact, if she shifts, I'll follow her, no question about it. It just isn't a question of who is more dominant."

"Well, normally I would hesitate to approve something like this if you weren't her Alpha, but if you will sign a waiver…" the doctor grabbed the paperwork from the nurse, showing Booth where to sign. Angela signed as well, placing herself as their proxy while they were both in their animal forms. Everything was sloppy and hurried because they knew whose life was on the line.

After the last of the paperwork was completed, Booth rushed off after the nurse to the isolation chamber, where he stripped completely and washed thoroughly with harsh smelling soap. Booth toweled dry, too worried about his partner to be embarrassed about the female nurses who supervised his scrubbing and shaved away all the hair on his body. As they gathered his possessions and clothes, they explained that Brennan was being prepped as well and she would be in the isolation chamber soon after he was. Making sure he knew what was expected of him, they gave Booth a paper robe and little footies to cover his bare feet. His dog tags were given back to him, and he slipped them over his head and held them tight, wishing they were the St. Christopher's medal.

He was completely on edge as he watched orderlies and nurses scatter around the isolation chamber, securing and testing equipment. He felt naked and exposed in his paper gown with no body hair at all, and the longer he waited, the more anxious he became. All the talk so far had been very technical and he ached for Bones to be beside him explaining it.

"Mr. Booth, if you'll please step over here…" a nurse in maroon scrubs told him. He moved out of the middle of the room to the edge where the nurse took his vital signs and asked a series of routine questions. He was in the middle of answering when a commotion drew his eyes to the door. His partner, his Bones, was wheeled in as the doctor supervised.

For some reason, it surprised him how terribly injured she looked. Although he recognized her immediately, she didn't look anything like her normal self. Her arm had been set and she had been shaved from head to toe, but nothing distracted him from her injuries. Every inch of her looked bruised and cut. She looked smaller than he knew her to be, and it brought his protective instinct raging to the front. His heart hammered furiously, and he could hear the change on the heart monitor they had hooked him up to.

"Bones!" he exclaimed in anguish. The nurse tried to get him to sit back down, but he shook off the equipment, snatched the IV pole that he was hooked up to and dragged it over to her side. He wanted to touch her, but he didn't want to cause her pain. Even her smooth head was lumpy with bruises and riddled with cuts. "Oh, Bones," he whispered at her side. He finally let his hand rest on her upper arm, caressing her skin with his thumb.

"We'll get the one who did this to you," he growled. He tried to be gentle, tried to be encouraging, but rage was swamping him. He caressed her arm despite his need to pound someone into the ground. "When you're better, we'll get him. Delgado will pay."

He would have no problem shifting. As he made his promise to his partner he felt the unique acid-wash sensation of an impending shift. He didn't try to fight it this time, but fed it, allowing it to seep into every part of him. The burnt feathers stench filled his nostrils and he sneezed twice.

"I'm shifting," he told the room hoarsely. The activity turned frantic as everyone hurried to complete their tasks before they had to leave.

"Make it a smooth transfer, people," a nurse said as they prepared to move Brennan from the ER bed to the lower, more stable shifting platform. It was very bare, with no frills. Another was set out for Booth and he took off his footies and paper robe before sitting on the edge of his shifting platform facing Brennan. Her face was horribly pale under the bruising and cuts, and Booth couldn't help but keep in physical contact with her, trying to comfort both her and himself.

The roomful of people waited anxiously as Booth's shifting protein levels rose, waiting for a change in Brennan's shifting proteins. Booth bowed his head and crossed himself, trying to find the words for a prayer, but his mind was achingly blank. One by one, all the hospital workers fell silent, only commenting when necessary. Their eyes were glued to the readouts.

Finally…

"Shifting protein level is rising. It's now at four percent." The entire room released a satisfied sigh. Booth smiled in relief, caressing her arm.

"You'll be ok, Bones," he whispered. "You'll be ok."

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><p>AN: Another chapter is in the works, although it's actually from Hodgins' POV. I love hearing from you!


	24. Waiting

A/N: I'm so honored that this story has such a loyal following. Thank you to everyone who has made their support of this story known.

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><p><strong>Chapter 24: Waiting<strong>

Hodgins and Angela held each other as they waited for news. The rest of their "family" had joined them. Cam was busy trying to calm Sweets and Daisy. They were vacillating between shouting their anger at Delgado and wailing pitifully at bringing trouble on Brennan by forcing her to be their new alpha. Hodgins knew that he should help, but he had his hands full with Angela. She was naturally worried about her best friend and traumatized at what she had seen. Her anger had subsided to exhaustion, but despite his coxing and arguments, she refused to leave the hospital until she heard news. He rubbed her back and shoulders as she leaned against him with her feet propped up on the chair beside her.

He knew that their jobs could be dangerous. Sometimes he craved that danger, craved the extra jolt of excitement it gave him. But now that he was holding his pregnant wife in his arms, he felt cold at the very thought of something happening to his family. Booth and Brennan usually took the brunt of the danger that came their way. He had lost count of the times when they had been bombed, targeted by serial killers, and shot at. Sometimes he knew that they'd had more close calls than they'd talked about. Brennan and Booth would come into Founding Fathers or Wong Fu's or the diner with grim expressions and exhausted demeanors, silent on the subject of what, exactly, went down.

His brush with death from the Gravedigger still gave him nightmares. Being buried alive was the single worst experience of his life, and he knew with absolute certainty that he wouldn't have survived it alone. Brennan kept him alive, kept him motivated, and kept him from losing out on the wonderful life he had now.

He remembered vividly when he had found out that Brennan was a shapeshifter. It was while they were buried alive. The dim car and the trauma they had endured had created a bond that let them give up secrets that they would normally keep hidden.

_"There's something you don't know about me. I'm rich," he said as she took the perfume. She looked at him as if expecting something else from him. _

_"Me too," she said easily. Somehow, Hodgins expected something more and moved to clarify his statement._

_"No, no, you're…well off. My family owns the Cantilever Group, and there's not many of us left alive. One, in fact," he said, trying not to brag and hoping that her opinion of him wouldn't change once she found out who the major donor to the Jeffersonian Institute was. _

_"Ok, I won't split it with you," she responded. Hodgins gave a small breath as she opened the perfume with a small pop and dumped it into his hand. Her nostrils flared as she sniffed delicately. "It smells nice."_

_Hodgins grinned as he worked his magic, realizing that Dr. Brennan wouldn't change her feelings because of someone's social status. It was a nice feeling. "I need the camera," he directed. Looking though the camera's lens as Brennan held the laser pointer, he calculated the fluorescence of the macerals in the soil. _

_"I know where we are," he announced. He felt the urge to claim "King of the Car," but knowing that Dr. Brennan wouldn't get it and besides, she was the one with all the good ideas anyway. She deserved more credit than he knew how to give her. Her steadfast belief that they would get out was astounding, and he clung to her belief, because Dr. Brennan was always right. _

_"There's something you don't know about me," Brennan suddenly said. Hodgins looked at her, wondering about her sudden announcement. He still held the mud that smelled like Deep Rhapsody. _

_"Yeah?" he asked, prompting her since she seemed very unsure, almost surprised that she had said anything. _

_"I'm…I'm a shapeshifter," she said hesitantly. _

_"Oh," he said, stunned. Brennan was as shocked as Hodgins was that she had disclosed that piece of information. She had guarded it so closely for so many years that she felt naked when that sentence came out of her mouth. _

_"I wanted you to be aware of my situation because it is possible that an intense period of stress will cause me to change forms," she said matter of factly. _

_"Oh," he repeated. His mind wasn't working properly and he wondered idly if they had already run out of oxygen and he was hallucinating this conversation. "Would it be rude of me to ask questions?" he asked warily. _

_"I am not aware of the rules of most social situations, but I am fairly certain that even the most socially adept of people would agree with me that the experience of being kidnapped and buried underground in a car creates a bond that surpasses societal constraints. So no, I don't think it would be rude for you to ask questions," she said. _

_Hodgins hid a smirk. It seemed that nothing could change Dr. Brennan's basic nature. He wouldn't have it any other way. "How long does it take you to…um…change?" he asked._

_"A complete shift takes me about four hours, but a functional change only takes three," she stated. Known facts felt good to say, even when she was revealing something about herself that she had no intention of ever making public. _

_ "How often do you change forms?" he asked, his native curiosity coming to the front. It helped take his mind off the pain in his leg and the claustrophobia creeping along the edges of his mind. _

_"I use my vacation time to shift," she said easily. Brennan found that it was easy to talk to Hodgins. He was surprised, but he took the information in stride, and, like any competent scientist, he set out to acquire more information._

_"But you went to that dig in Guatemala during your last vacation," Hodgins remembered. "Zack went back to Michigan, even though he wanted to go with you."_

_"I was at the dig for a little over three weeks. The rest of the time I spent in my jaguar form in the Guatemalan jungle."_

_"Jaguar…" he repeated in awe. His mind whirred, but he said, "That makes sense. You tend to be solitary and territorial." Hodgins looked up quickly. He hadn't actually meant to say that out loud. _

_"I suppose that is an accurate statement, even though your assumptions are somewhat erroneous because I was both solitary and territorial before I became a shapeshifter," Brennan said, shrugging uncomfortably, "My animal form has little bearing on my personality." _

_"You weren't born a shapeshifter?" Hodgins said in amazement. He was so fascinated with the conversation that he still held the squishy, expensive handful of mud without thinking about it._

_"No," Brennan said in a tone of voice that discouraged more questioning along those lines. Hodgins got the point and switched gears. He looked for a place to put the mud and finally decided to rub it on the floorboard. _

_"So…uh…what do I do if you change forms?" he asked, cleaning the mud from between his fingers with the corner of his jacket. Brennan handed him a bottle of water, but instead of using it to clean his hands, he took a swig. He looked up to see her studying him intensely. It was as disconcerting as always to be on the receiving end of that stare._

_"I will do my upmost to prevent a shift. But it is a possibility," she said. She paused and Hodgins could see her considering what she should say, although he didn't really know her well enough to guess at what was going to come out of her mouth. She decided and continued on firmly, "There will be enough time for me to warn you about my impending shift."_

_"Will there be enough time for you to tell me all that I need to know if you do begin to shift?" Hodgins asked, partly out of curiosity and partly out of fear that something would happen and he would be left alone to die. _

_"Yes," she stated decisively, "I have an extended period of consciousness during a shift due to my high tolerance to pain." _

Her high tolerance to pain probably caused the situation she and Booth were in right now. The pain didn't motivate her to shift. If Booth couldn't get her to shift, Hodgins didn't know what would happen. It had been roughly three hours since she had been admitted to the hospital. If she was going to shift, she would have done it by now.

He wasn't an expert on shapeshifters to any extent, but Hodgins knew that Brennan was stubborn, and wouldn't give up. Wouldn't give in, not to anything. And Booth was there to help her. She would pull though.

The wait was interminable. Angela broke down crying again, and this time Hodgins knew better than to ask her to go home. Angela's tears finally to sit with her after Daisy and Sweets calmed down enough to sit still and murmur back and forth between themselves. Hodgins squeezed Angela's hand.

"Let me get some juice for you," he told her. His wife nodded, and Hodgins asked around to see if anyone else wanted something from the cafeteria. There were no takers, so he came back with a coffee for himself and a cold juice for Angela. He took his place on the uncomfortable chair again as a vigil for his friends.

After a miserably long wait, a doctor came into the waiting room. Everyone looked up hopefully as he checked his clipboard.

"Angela Montenegro?" the doctor asked. Angela struggled out of her seat with Hodgins' help, determined to take the news standing up. The rest of the crew stood as well.

"Yes?" Angela asked. "I'm Angela. How are they?"

"Ms. Brennan and Mr. Booth are stable for now," he told them. There was a sigh of relief all around.

"It's doctor," Daisy said. "Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth."

"Very well," the doctor said, hiding his annoyance. "Agent Booth was able to induce a shift in Dr. Brennan, and they've both shifted. Dr. Brennan is in a coma, which is not unusual when considering her injuries prior to her shift. We expect her to come out of the coma on her own sometime within the next three days."

"Can we see them?" Angela asked, her puffy eyes welling with tears again.

"I'm afraid not," the doctor said sternly, shaking his head sadly. "They are in the isolation chamber right now, with no visitors allowed. Forty-eight hours after they complete their shift they will be allowed a limited number of visitors if Dr. Brennan's condition continues to improve. We will keep you informed of their condition."

"Thank you," Cam said. The doctor left them alone and they circled around Angela, even though Cam took charge of the situation. "We need to take shifts so someone is at the hospital if something happens."

"Daisy and I can take first shift," Sweets offered. "We can stay here tonight."

"We can come back in the morning," Hodgins said, looking to Angela for confirmation. "Now that we know that they're stable, it's just a waiting game."

"I'll call Russ," Angela said sadly. "I don't know how to get in touch with Max."

"Good," Cam said. "I can call Rebecca and Parker, I suppose. Is there anyone else we need to tell?"

"I don't think so," Angela said.

"I'll close the lab tomorrow," Cam said, realizing how difficult this was for their little family. "And I will relieve you tomorrow afternoon. You two need to save your energy for when the baby comes."

Angela nodded listlessly and Hodgins put his arm around her, steering her to the exit. He nodded at Daisy and Sweets, who were planning the most comfortable way to stay in the hospital, and exchanged thankful glances with Cam. Booth and Brennan would be all right. Hodgins had faith.

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><p>AN: Next chapter you get to see Booth and Brennan in their animal forms. Anyone excited?


	25. Felidae

A/N: I hope the wait to see them in their animal forms didn't kill anyone. Thank you so much for being so supportive as I struggle though this. Happy Reading!

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><p><strong>Chapter 25: Felidae<strong>

Dr. Adeniji appeared in the viewing window at the expected time. He was the most punctual doctor that Booth had ever come in contact with, other than Bones. Booth lazily looked up to watch him make his observations from above. Dr. Adeniji was an expert in shapeshifter care and had been excited to take care of the partners when he found out what their animal forms were. He had come from Nigeria where there were more feline shifters than in the United States, so he was the foremost authority in the United States on feline shifters. It was an unexpected perk for Booth and Brennan to have the best care available.

Both of the partners lounged on the hugely uncomfortable rubber mats in the spacious rooms as the doctor made notes on their condition. Booth felt as if he was reclining on the old wrestling mats from his high school days. They even smelled of feet, sweat, blood, and other bodily fluids over the strong smell of the disinfectant, just like in high school. The air conditioning came on, the air flow making his golden mane ruffle slightly. He shook his long mane to settle it and turned to watch Brennan.

He had watched her intensely that first day while she was in a coma. After he'd woken up from the shift, feeling stiff and achy, like a he was a hundred years old, he'd watched her. Although the achiness had passed and he felt healthier than he had in months, he still watched her closely rather than pacing around the room like he wanted. He had memorized every line of her form, counted every breath, listened intently for any movement. When she had finally opened her green eyes and weakly signed his name, the ice that had gripped him since she had said his name in that nervous voice melted.

She was beautiful, his partner. Her jaguar form was stunning. Her fur was completely black, with dusky, dark brown rosettes showing very faintly when the light hit it just right. Brennan had once given him a lecture on the dominant genes that caused her to have black fur rather than a jaguar's distinct golden fur with black rosettes, but he had forgotten the specifics. He simply admired her silky coat.

Although she still had a bit of the starving kitten look, she was so much healthier than when she had first shifted in response to him. The almost three days' worth of a steady supply of high protein, high fat diet was doing wonders for her. Her skin lost the stretched-over-bone look and became sleek and shiny, as did her luxurious fur. Even her black whiskers looked longer and sleeker.

She had a jaguar's massive jaws, capable of crushing a turtle's shell or the skull of her prey. It was amazing to him that she had a more powerful bite than he did, even though he was a lion with more sheer mass. She opened those gorgeous jade green eyes as the air started circulating and sniffed warily before relaxing again, though she didn't return her head to her paws, instead looking up to where she knew the doctor was.

"Good morning, Ms. Brennan, Mr. Booth," Dr. Adeniji said into the speaker. The Nigerian doctor's voice echoed around the concrete room in a way that never failed to have Booth's ears lie flat against his head in annoyance. It had never bothered him when he was in his human form, but not being able to pinpoint where the voice came from in his lion form bothered him to no end. Brennan merely watched with aplomb and serenity.

"I'm happy to tell you that Ms. Brennan continues to improve. Just remember to keep the instruments in place no matter how uncomfortable they may be. You'll be under observation for at least another twenty-four hours, but I believe that you will be able to leave if you show the same amount of improvement. Of course, I do not recommend another shift for at least a week, but I think your friends will arrange your care in the mean time. Please extend your forepaw and press 'yes' if you understand what I have just told you."

The doctor knew some of the sign language that shapeshifters used when in animal form, but he preferred to use the keyboard to communicate. Booth flopped his paw out in agreement, stretching his claws out because of his annoyance at the doctor and pressing the oversized 'yes' button on the strange keyboard. Brennan stretched her paw out gracefully and hit it after he did. "Another reason she's beautiful_,_" Booth thought with approval. Every move that she made somehow looked dignified.

The doctor continued. "Your breakfasts are on their way, and you have a visitor. Well, you actually have a couple of visitors by the names of Angela Montenegro and Jack Hodgins. If you would like to see them, please press 'yes.' Otherwise press 'no.'"

They pressed 'yes' enthusiastically as they watched the doctor place his clipboard back in its slot. "Good. They will be allowed onto the observation deck for half an hour following the completion of your breakfasts." His words were punctuated by the rasp of the metal tray entering through a slot in the door.

Although they both knew that it was standard hospital policy, Booth and Brennan shared a wry glance at their cautious and demeaning treatment of shifters. The slot in the metal door closed once the tray was inside and only then did Booth get up and stretch his legs leisurely. His hind paw scratched vigorously at his ear for a second before he sauntered to the food trays. Brennan rolled to her feet and tensed to move towards him but he pulled his lips back to show his teeth and gave a rumbling, playful growl. Brennan huffed an annoyed breath and sat down, turning her head away from him slightly in disgust even though Booth could tell from the placement of her ears that she wasn't really angry. The tip of her tail was ticking to an unheard beat and Booth could almost hear her voice at that moment. "Typical alpha male."

He huffed a laugh and saw the line of her back soften, although she still didn't turn to face him. Carefully he brought his partner her tray. He could smell the added vitamins and medications in her pile of meat, and they had also added several whole carrots as well as some celery sticks to her tray. He went back for his tray, which only contained meat complete with what smelled like steak bones.

Although their meals were served separately, they always ate them together right under the observation window. Even though the cameras and other surveillance equipment allowed the doctors and nurses to see every corner of the isolation chamber, the area directly below the large pane of glass felt like it had the most privacy.

Booth lay down with his tray between his paws and began attacking his meal, scarfing down the small chunks of meat. He watched his partner as she divided her meal into three parts—the raw meat and organs cut into chunks, the meat still attached to the bone, and finally the vegetables. She took a bite of the meat, swallowing it whole and grimacing at the metallic taste of the vitamins sprinkled on top. Then she took a bite of a carrot, relishing the crisp crack and crunch of the vegetable and letting her eyes droop with pleasure. As she held the carrot stub between her paws and chewed her treat, Booth reached out and stole one of her steak bones. She swiped a paw at him half-heartedly as he cracked into the bone to get to the yellow center. Brennan then pushed a piece of celery at him with her paw and he growled at it playfully, showing his teeth and making a big production of batting it into the wall.

Their playful back-and-forth came as easily to them in their feline forms as it did in their human forms. And just like their antics amused the waitresses at the diner, they also amused the nurses and techs at the hospital. Their bickering and arguments were already legendary in their wing of the hospital, and the nurses left extra treats for them, just for the show.

They hurried though their breakfast, wanting to see Angela and Hodgins, perhaps getting the discharge process started so they could leave. As soon as they had finished, they pushed their trays near the door and climbed the stairs that led to the platform in front of the observation window. Brennan pressed the oversized button to call the nurse and signal that they were finished with their meal and ready for their visitors.

The nurse opened the door and smiled when she saw them jostling for position on the platform on the other side of the glass. "Your visitors have been waiting very patiently. I'll show them in."

Outwardly, Brennan was calm and collected. Inside, however, was a very different matter. She was dancing with impatience on the inside. Hodgins held the door as Angela raced in, Hodgins walking after them more sedately. Brennan's best friend hurried to the window and pressed her hands against the glass.

"Sweetie, you can't scare me like this," Angela wailed. "I was so worried about you! They wouldn't tell me anything other than you were stable. Everything they said sounded so bad, though! I mean, no visitors allowed in the isolation ward? That sounds serious. Oh, but it's so good to finally see you both."

Hodgins pulled two chairs from the wall and held it for Angela before sitting in his own. "It really is great to see you guys," he said. Booth could tell he was trying his best to speak to them as he normally would, even though he was unsure about talking to two animals. "We're all worried. We've not been able to touch any evidence that has to do with your case."

::Daisy & Sweets?:: Brennan typed furiously with both forepaws. She was much better at it than Booth, so she was in charge of the keyboard. It was a frustrating way to communicate, but at least they had a voice that way. Neither Angela nor Hodgins were familiar with shapeshifter sign language, but even if they were, the shifter language didn't express abstract ideas very well.

"Sweets has been moping around. Cam had a discussion with him the other day about it, but I think they came to an agreement. Daisy has been driving us crazy. They're both here with us, actually. Daisy wanted to come in with us, but only two visitors are allowed per day, and because Angela is on the paperwork, she had priority. I just came with her," Hodgins answered. "But they're both okay. They've been staying with us in Zach's old place, actually."

Booth hit the smiley face button before Brennan could respond, and she snapped at his paw as he withdrew it. ::Good,:: she typed. She thought for a moment before typing, ::I injured several shifters. Status?::

"Angela saw them loading the injured in the van and gave her sketch to the police," Hodgins said, rubbing his wife's back reassuringly. Brennan's body slumped dejectedly. She had hoped that they would be able to apprehend some of her assailants so that they would have proof that Delgado had sent them.

"Your doorman is doing ok," Angela said. "He had a mild concussion."

"They really planned this thing out well," Hodgins commented. "They followed Booth to make sure that he wouldn't be able to get to Brennan in time, and they picked a secluded place to attack."

::They weren't expecting Bones,:: Booth typed laboriously. Brennan puzzled over the statement until she saw the sheer pride in Booth's form. ::She surprised them. They made mistakes.::

"We aren't allowed to be on the case, of course, but I know they found a knife at the scene, and I'm sure there were prints," Angela said. "They'll be caught."

::Delgado.:: Booth typed. He growled, deep in his chest, but didn't let lose the roar building in him at his helplessness. They were both stuck here, doing nothing, while Delgado was running free, covering his tracks. He saw his friends frown slightly at his vicious-sounding growl, but they didn't comment on it. Brennan brushed her side against his, which calmed him. He stopped growling and ignored Angela's knowing smile.

::When can we leave?:: Brennan typed.

"I obtained a temporary shapeshifter transportation license," Hodgins told them proudly. "As soon as the doctor releases you, I can take you home."

::Thank you,:: Brennan signed. She also typed it out to make sure they received the message, and they smiled.

"That's what friends are for," Angela said with an easy smile. Her smile turned teasing. "You know, you two are still as cute as when you're in your human form."

Booth rolled his eyes and Brennan suddenly noticed how close they were. She got up and casually walked a tiny bit away from Booth as if that had been her plan all along. Angela and Hodgins smiled at each other because the partners were so typical. They turned when the nurse came into the observation room.

"I'm afraid that it's time," she said. They understood that it was time for them to leave, and Hodgins pulled Angela out of her chair.

"We'll be back tomorrow," Hodgins said.

::Tomorrow,:: Brennan typed. Angela and Hodgins smiled hopefully as they left.

Once they were gone, Brennan abandoned the keyboard and left the platform to lie back down on the mats. Booth followed her, letting his body drop close to hers. Her fur felt very nice against his, and her scent was a very pleasant diversion in the otherwise foul smelling room. He didn't know exactly how to describe her smell, even to himself. He could use words like wild or woody or even arousing, but those words didn't even begin to describe the complexity of it or the way her smell made him feel. It was just Bones. In whatever form she was in, she smelled wonderful.

Brennan turned her head so that her breath lightly tickled his whiskers. She lightly touched his nose with hers to bring his attention back.

::Pain?:: he asked. She shook her head slightly and sighed.

::I want to leave,:: she signed plaintively. She looked toward the door longingly.

::Tomorrow,:: he promised.

~B&B~

The doctor sent them home the next day with stern warnings about avoiding exertion and not shifting for at least another four days. He also gave Angela some pamphlets and a booklet about the shifter sign language and the proper diet and ideal surroundings for a shifter who'd undergone a traumatic shift.

Booth and Brennan submitted to the indignity of being rolled out of the hospital on modified stretchers and escorted by two security guards with Tasers. Hodgins brought his biggest SUV and had taken the back seats out of their places so they would have room to stretch out. Booth climbed into the car admiringly, automatically moving aside so that Brennan could follow him in.

Brennan followed gracefully, balancing effortlessly. Her sense of equilibrium had returned, and the constant ringing in her ears that had plagued her had disappeared overnight. She felt healthy and strong, as she had not felt since she shifted. She was also restless, but she didn't show it as badly as Booth did. When she settled on the floor of the vehicle, Booth circled her once, checking her and his surroundings, as he had since they came to the hospital. Satisfied that everything was alright, he laid down next to her on his haunches, ready to spring if he needed to.

With both of them in the back, it was a tight fit, but they enjoyed being close. Their fur mingled, and when Booth tried to look in the seat pocket in front of them by using his claws to pull it out, Brennan could snap at his ear without having to move. He growled playfully at her, but ended it on a whine. Brennan sighed and pulled out the pocket delicately, using the pads of her paws to avoid damaging the seat. Booth satisfied his curiosity about the pouch and leaned back happily. Angela simply watched their antics in the rearview mirror with amusement. Hodgins got into the driver's seat and turned back to check them.

"Are you ready?" he asked. They could tell that he was uncomfortable with their animal forms, but they respected his courage and the way he spoke directly to them and tried to act as usual. Booth and Brennan nodded, the human gesture feeling grossly exaggerated to the two shifters, and Hodgins turned on the engine. Brennan shook her head, disturbed by the vibrations of the engines. It messed with her ears in a way that she always had to adjust to every time she rode in a vehicle as a jaguar.

They rode in silence for the most part. Brennan and Booth spoke between themselves in sign language, and also in the way they could without words or gestures. The shifter sign language, especially the variety designed for big cats, was composed of subtle, graceful movements. It fit Booth and Brennan very well, but it also limited what they could discuss. It frustrated Brennan sometimes because it didn't allow her to be as precise as she wanted to be, but it also lessened the chance that she would say something that would make Booth angry. It was nice to have pleasant conversation with him, even as limited as it was. Occasionally Angela would want to join in on their conversation, but it was difficult for her to understand the sign language. She commented every once in a while, but she felt awkward when two pairs of intense, glowing eyes turned on her.

They were on the way to Hodgins' estate where Daisy and Sweets waited. His estate was perfect for shifters, with a large amount of privately owned land with woods and a stream that fed a small pool. Hodgins had prepared the garage for them, as it was the easiest building to get in and out of. Daisy and Sweets were living in the apartment above it, and they would be able to anticipate what Brennan and Booth would need. At first Brennan and Booth had tried to argue him out of taking them to his estate, but Hodgins was adamant. The white-tailed deer population was unhealthy with no natural predators. He didn't hunt like his family had in the past, nor did he allow hunters to disturb the peace of his estate. Since Sweets and Daisy were at his estate, he needed their Alpha to calm them. His arguments swayed them both. Besides, when Hodgins didn't want to listen to them anymore, he simply stopped translating from the sign language pamphlet.

They were sitting in DC traffic when Brennan's phone rang from Angela's purse. Hodgins had retrieved it from the garage when he and Angela had picked up some of Brennan's stuff, and Angela had kept it with her just in case Russ or Max called her back. Brennan perked her ears up curiously when she heard her ring tone, and looked at her friend expectantly.

"It's an unknown number," Angela said, looking at the screen. She looked back at Brennan and showed her the screen. The jaguar made a "go ahead" gesture. Hesitantly Angela answered the phone.

"Brennan's phone, this is Angela speaking," she said.

"Is Brennan the alpha lady with the FBI agent?" Luis Lopez asked in a hushed voice. Brennan and Booth could hear him clearly with their feline hearing. Brennan went completely still in shock. Booth stood up slightly, balancing in the moving car easily.

"Um, yes, she is," Angela said tentatively. She kept glancing around at Brennan in confusion.

"Tell her that Delgado has her Pack and he's forcing them to shift," Luis said hurriedly.

"What do you mean?" Angela asked in alarm.

"I mean he has her shapeshifter couple with him. I don't know their names, but the guy looks like he's in prep school and the girl is really annoying," Luis said. Everyone immediately recognized them from their descriptions and their hearts went cold from fear.

Delgado had Sweets and Daisy.

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><p>AN: Yes, I know, another cliffhanger. I'm growing fond of them, actually. Tell me what you think!


	26. Challenge

A/N: I'll just say thank you and let you get on with reading.

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><p><strong>Chapter 26: Challenge<strong>

"Delgado is forcing them to shift, and then he's going to make them challenge him to the death. Tell her to come to the DC Pack quick," Luis whispered quickly. He hung up without another word.

Hodgins got on his phone quickly, calling the security at the house. They listened to the conversation, hardly breathing. "They're gone," Hodgins said grimly as he ended the call.

Brennan got to her feet quickly, startling Angela and Hodgins. Booth glanced down at her, recognizing the same determination. Hodgins and Angela knew exactly what they were thinking without having to translate anything.

"You can't go," Angela said pleadingly, "You just got out of the hospital."

Brennan startled them with the jaguar roar, a coughing sound that had elements of a lion's growl underneath. She modulated her voice for an enclosed space, but it still made everyone's ears ring. Booth nuzzled her ear to calm her down and encourage her, his mane brushing her neck comfortingly. Even Angela was too worried to awe over the sweet gesture.

::I must,:: Brennan signed emphatically, showing her teeth for extra emphasis.

"Please," Angela said simply, tears welling up in her eyes. "My baby needs a godmother."

The blatant manipulation almost swayed Brennan. But she thought it over quickly and decided that the risk of fighting Delgado was worth the possible reward, even though she would like to stay safe for her friends' sake. Booth noticed her struggle, as he often did, and stepped forward.

::I will be with her,:: he signed, looking at his beautiful partner. In his heart he was resolved that if it looked like Delgado was about to hurt her, he would kill the son of a bitch, no matter what the consequences. He turned back to Angela. ::I won't let anything happen to her. Delgado must be stopped.::

It took Angela a little while to decipher this, but Hodgins was already turning toward the DC Pack offices. They were near his house, so they were not very far from the DC Pack offices. Already the landscape was turning wooded and rising and falling in hills.

"Bren, please," Angela begged. "You aren't strong enough."

::I am,:: Brennan signed clearly. ::Let me be strong.::

Angela sobbed once, then shakily smiled through her tears. She did what her booklet on shifters told her not to do and hugged Brennan's neck, holding on for a long moment as she wept into Brennan's fur. When she let go, Hodgins grabbed his wife's hand and held it reassuringly.

As they entered the long driveway that led to the DC Pack, Brennan fought not to claw the carpet of the car. She relaxed her paws, retracting her claws. Booth was also tense, his body tightly coiled as he balance around the twists and turns through the trees. They came around the bend and could see the Pack offices, blending in with the scenery.

The immensity of what they were doing hit Booth and Brennan when Hodgins pulled to a stop outside the front of the building. If they went into a rival Pack headquarters in their animal forms, they were challenging Delgado for control of his Pack. That they didn't want control of the Pack was of no consequence. Delgado and his Pack members would see it that way. If they wanted to bring Sweets and Daisy home, they would have to fight a power-hungry, experienced shifter for a Pack that he had built up from the ground. They shared a meaningful glance, knowing that they were playing into Delgado's hand and giving him a legal recourse to end Family Felidae. Even so, they had no doubts.

When Hodgins opened the door for them, Booth stepped out majestically. He personified the reason that lions were called the king of the jungle. His muscles rippled under his golden fur and his long mane danced in the breeze. He looked strong and powerful. Brennan followed him out, a dark shadow behind him. The contrast between them was as striking as always. On the outside, Brennan and Booth looked like exact opposites, no matter their form. But where it counted, they were the same.

They followed their noses to the back of the building. Their ears told them that there were many shifters there, probably circling their Alpha and the "challengers." Sure enough, they circled around the building and found a crowd of shifters. Some were in their wolf forms, at the front of the crowd. Most were in their human forms, edging around, but not pressing close, to the wolves. Booth and Brennan tried to see inside the circle, but the crowd blocked their view.

Booth took a deep breath and roared, a physical blast of sound that scattered many of the people in the crowd in fear. Side by side they walked through the crowd and Brennan growled viciously at anyone who dared to get in their way. Booth and Brennan moved through more shifters than either had ever seen in one place to the center where Delgado waited for them in his wolf form.

Brennan immediately looked for Sweets and Daisy. They were unconscious, midway into a shift, and looked terrible. The half-form looked disgusting in and of itself, but the young couple looked worse for the wear. She tried to remember when they last shifted, but the date didn't come to mind. Brennan went to stand between Delgado and her Pack. Booth stood beside her, guarding her flank.

::The cats come to claim their own,:: Delgado signed mockingly. The wolf sign language was abrupt and brutal, much like the man himself. At his words, the humans in the circle laughed, some nastily and some nervously. Delgado snapped at Brennan and Booth from across the circle, hoping to startle them. Neither of them so much as batted an eyelash. Brennan hunched down, ready to spring, but Booth made a sign to wait. He glanced around. Ramones was Delgado's bodyguard and acted with the Alpha's authority. He should be around, especially if his Alpha was in danger, but Booth couldn't see him or smell him in the press of the crowd. Brennan watched Delgado with her unnerving stare, crouched down and ready to pounce while Booth watched the crowd, looking for Ramones.

::Do you come to challenge me?:: Delgado asked.

::Let me take my Pack home,:: Brennan answered fluidly. Although she knew that she would be able to take him down in a fight, she also knew that she and Booth would take a lot of damage. She would have to fight Delgado, as the Alpha of Family Felidae, but Booth would have to keep Delgado's Pack honest, and she expected Delgado to cheat.

::They belong to me,:: Delgado said, snarling at the jaguar.

::Then I challenge you for them,:: Brennan responded.

::I accept your challenge,:: Delgado signed as he jumped at Brennan with a growl.

She sprung through the air with a grunting roar and the jaguar's speed. Booth sprang with her, but not at Delgado. He hit Ramones as the wolf flew through the air toward Brennan's unprotected side. The two sets of combatants crashed together with a terrible sound. Fangs and fur flew, and the wolves came away the worst from the first engagement. Delgado was bleeding from Brennan's mighty claws, but he was too quick for her to bite. Ramones had a gash on his side, and his fur under his neck was matted with blood where Booth had been able to sink his teeth into him. Booth had a slash on his muzzle, but it was a minor annoyance.

Delgado was surprised that he had been hurt. With that brief attack, he knew that he was no match for Brennan, but he was a wily opponent and not constrained by the rules as Brennan and Booth were. He howled and in response the wolves set up a howl, a plaintive call to hunt. Wolves on the sidelines threw themselves at the partners with fanatic devotion.

Booth and Brennan backed towards each other, flank to flank facing the circle as a dozen wolves ran toward them. Booth roared, stopping a few with the sheer might of his powerful being. Brennan roared in response, snarling with a sound like ripping paper. Both voices radiated with the authority that came from being alphas. The wolves hesitated, but the craziest of them attacked despite the warning.

The partners devastated them. The wolves were young and inexperienced, not used to fighting in their animal forms, whereas Booth and Brennan had been forged in the fires of pain and suffering. They both tried not to kill the wolves coming towards them, although it was within their rights to do so. Brennan crushed one wolf's spine with one bite, knowing that he could recover most of his mobility if he shifted soon enough. Booth bashed a wolf in the head with a paw the size of a dinner plate, knocking him back into the mob, but his claws were sheathed. Each wolf that came at them was thrown back with terrible wounds, but still they came, urged on by Delgado and Ramones. The wolves kept attacking as Delgado circled like a jackal around the fight, looking for his chance to take down the bigger predators.

As the ranks of the wolves thinned by Booth and Brennan's onslaught, Delgado grew troubled. Booth and Brennan panted in the middle of the fallen wolves, but other than scratches, they were untouched. Brennan's teeth were red with blood as she kept up a low growl and Booth shook the blood off his whiskers nonchalantly. As confident as Booth and Brennan were, they knew that Delgado would be underhanded enough to ask the pack members in their human form to go after them with weapons. Neither of them would survive a bullet to the brain. Brennan decided to end it.

::Coward,:: she signed, clear enough for all the pack to see it. ::You send cubs to kill me.::

Delgado growled furiously as his pack turned to him to refute the claims. ::I am strong,:: he signed. His weak response made his pack nervous. Ramones noticed this and snapped at an obviously unconvinced pack member. The wolf jumped, but didn't rush to attack the noble felines in the middle.

::I challenged you, Delgado,:: Brennan signed with a roar. ::I don't hunt for children.::

She clawed the air, rearing on her hind legs and showing her vulnerable belly as a taunt. Booth kept his eyes on Ramones. The gutless weasel tried to get another wolf to attack, but suddenly the wolves melted into the circle of people with tiny, unsatisfied yips. Booth could hear them running for the wood line. He growled in satisfaction.

::I challenge you, Delgado,:: Brennan said again for the third time.

The wolf looked sideways at his second, giving Ramones a signal. Ramones lunged in one last attempt to kill Brennan. She roared her defiance, but Booth was too quick and swiped Ramones out of the air. He landed on his feet, and the two guys faced off. Booth roared, an intimidating sound directed straight at the wolf that made Ramones flinch. His ears went back and he snarled at Booth, circling him warily. Ramones darted in, aiming for Booth's back leg. Booth spun, using his cat-like reflexes, and latched onto Ramones' back with his fierce teeth. He shook once, and Ramones went limp. Booth roared in triumph, letting his opponent fall to the ground, defeated.

In the moment of distraction, Delgado leaped for Brennan, hoping to take her unawares. Brennan growled viciously and jumped to meet him. They crashed together in the air and fell with a resounding thud. Delgado landed on top, with a secure hold in the fur on the side of Brennan's neck. Brennan was on her back underneath him, but was putting her claws to deadly use. Delgado was used to fighting other wolves and forgot that Brennan had devastating claws on both her forepaws and her hind paws. She dug her claws on her hind legs into Delgado's stomach and eviscerated him. He drew back, stumbling as he realized the damage she had caused.

::Shift now and I'll let you live,:: Brennan signed, limping to her feet. Her neck was bleeding, but Brennan didn't know how much.

::I'd rather die than shift under your command,:: Delgado said. He dropped to his side weakly, his blood staining the ground. His breath rattled in his throat pitifully, but he used his last energy to snap at Brennan as she came closer. He signed weakly, ::Mercy strike.::

::So be it,:: she signed grimly. She roared to get everyone's attention, even though they had been riveted on them the entire time. She made an emphatic gesture that meant "Witness this!" She signed to the remnants of the pack, ::Delgado has asked for a mercy strike.::

With an appropriate amount of ceremony, she bit Delgado on the back of the neck, severing his brain stem from his spinal cord. He died quickly and as painlessly as Brennan could manage. His wolves howled mournfully, and the shifters in their human forms looked grim. Booth came to stand next to her as she panted, feeling stunned that she had really defeated Delgado. Together they waited for another attack.

One by one, the shifters made the signs of submission. In a wave, all the shifters bared their throats or rolled onto their backs to show their bellies. The wolves crept out of the woods to submit to the new alpha.

Luis came out of the crowd, still looking pale and gaunt. He made the sign of submission before Booth and Brennan, like a vassal swearing allegiance to his liege. Then he looked up and grinned.

"Well, alpha lady, you got yourself a pack," he said irreverently, grinning maniacally the entire time. "What're you going to do with it?"

Brennan looked at Booth unsurely, and Booth looked back in surprise. What were they going to do with it, indeed?

* * *

><p>AN: I hope you liked it. There's more to come.


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